His Idea of Me
by sunnyontheheights
Summary: She belonged to his brother. Before this day, he despised the thought of sharing anything with Thor. Yet now the same rage burns in both their hearts. The same grief, the same thirst for revenge. Trust has fallen by the wayside. But now, something else ties them... something that also has the power to drive them apart for good.
1. The Opposite of You

_"Once I called you brother._

_Once I thought the chance to make you laugh_

_Was all I ever wanted…"_

_—The Prince of Egypt_

* * *

Loki watched Thor tuck the blanket around Jane's fragile shoulders, and smirked to himself at the absurd display of tenderness from a brute. The ship hummed beneath them as they drifted through the wreckage of Svartalheim. On any other night, Loki might have peered over the edge to admire the sheer desolation of this rugged world; the raw chaos still lingering in the darkness sent a tingle through his veins. But tonight, a darker energy hummed in his blood. He sat beside the steering console, his bound hands guiding the ship with practiced skill through the deadly debris littering the planet.

He let his eyes trail over Jane's face. Not even in sleep did the little mortal seem to relax. The smooth contours of her face pulled together in a frown, the hair trailing over her pale cheek. She looked far too small to be here, in this world. Far too vulnerable.

And yet she housed the most destructive power known to the Nine Realms.

"What I could do with the power that flows through those veins," he murmured.

Thor shot him an uncharacteristically grave look. "It would consume you."

Loki smirked at his brother, enjoying the protective glint in the elder god's eye when he watched the young woman sleep.

"She's holding up all right… for now."

Thor's deep voice returned with conviction. "She's strong in ways you'd never even know."

Loki pressed his lips together and shook his head. He almost pitied the fool. "Say goodbye."

"Not this day."

Loki got to his feet, riling up his brother more out of habit and boredom than any real malice. "This day, the next, a hundred years. It's nothing. It's a heartbeat. You'll never be ready. The only woman whose love you prized will be snatched from you—"

"And will that satisfy you?" Thor snapped.

"Satisfaction's not in my nature."

"Surrender is not in mine." Thor held his gaze with a cold stare, attempting to cow him into submission. The likeness to their—Thor's—father was uncanny. Loki tilted his head.

"Son of Odin—"

"No, not just of Odin!" Thor stood, pent-up rage and grief coloring his face. "You think you alone loved mother? You had her tricks but I had her trust."

A pain like a dagger lanced through Loki's chest. He stepped forward. "Trust?" he hissed. "Was that her last expression? _Trust? _When you let her _die?"_

"What help were you in her cell?" Thor taunted.

"Who put me there?" Loki snarled. _"Who put me there?"_

Thor lunged, catching Loki by the shoulders and slamming him back into the ship's siding. "You know damn well, you know _damn _well who!"

The fist was there, just inches from his face, and Loki braced himself for the blow. Thor's furious blue eyes ticked between his, and he could see the struggle there. But the higher road—his brother _always _took the higher road—won out.

He lowered his arm. His breath came ragged.

"She wouldn't want us to fight."

The brokenness of Thor's voice made Loki's own defenses slacken. He pushed himself up off the wall. For the most fleeting of moments, he could almost see their mother's face, drawn with disapproval over her boys' antics, though the love she could never hide still burned fiercely behind her eyes.

"Well," he muttered, just a hint of a smile tipping his lips. "She wouldn't exactly be shocked."

Thor must have felt it too, for his pained expression eased slightly, a humorless smile on the corner of his mouth.

"I wish I could trust you," he murmured. To Loki's surprise, the longing in his voice was real. Thor stepped back, his eyes still on his, before slowly turning away, back to Jane. Loki watched him settle himself across from his lady. Then he leaned forward, the low intensity of his voice almost too soft for Thor to hear.

"Trust my rage."

Thor does hear. He turns, almost imperceptibly, and his eyes briefly brush his brother's. Then he leans back against bench a few feet from Jane, his hammer resting across his knees, and closes his eyes. After a few moments, his brother's breathing evens, and all goes still on the little craft.

Loki's gaze narrows. In all the years he'd known Thor, the bloke always knew how to knock him down a notch. It was beyond insulting—to fall asleep in his presence with his lady lying vulnerable between them. As if Loki posed no threat, helpless and cuffed as he was. Resentment burned within him. Oh, he posed far more a threat than Thor would ever know. Metal bonds or not, Loki had enough magic to cross the pod, slit his brother's throat with a Jötunn ice blade and leap away into the wilds of Svartalheim before Heimdall could even bat his golden eyes.

But no. He was here for a purpose. As much as he despised Thor, he would have to put aside his bitterness until he could extract revenge on the beast who took his mother.

He let his eyes fall back to his brother lying there, a slight pucker between his blonde brows. An odd sense of mutual pain, of something he shared with this hammer-toting oaf he once called kin, rose in his chest.

_Their _mother.

"He loves you, you know."

Loki looked up, startled to hear Jane speak. The young mortal lay where Thor had left her, curled under the blanket with her hair wind-tossed over her face, yet her brown eyes were open, fixed on him.

He turned toward her. "What?"

"He might not show it," Jane murmured, and he wondered if she fully knew what she was saying. Her voice was faint, on the borders of sleep. "Not always," she continued. "But he does. He's adamant about the fact that you're still his brother, no matter what you did. No matter how much you push him away."

Loki smiled down at her, a cold sort of smile that would make most Aesir—let alone humans—scuttle away in fear. Jane was either too tired, or too thick, to fully appreciate the effect.

"And I suppose you would be an expert on Thor's love."

Her dark eyes slid away from his, the hint of a flush tinting her cheeks. He found his own eyes drawn to the color.

"I'm not, actually," she mumbled, almost too quiet for him to hear.

"Oh?" He pushed himself off from his resting place on the wall and sauntered toward her, his steps slow and deliberate. She didn't shrink back, only watched his approach with veiled eyes.

He leaned against the ship side an arm's length from her and peered down. "Is my brother not madly in love with you?"

He saw her delicate throat bob in a nervous swallow. Was it his proximity? The fact that Thor lay unawares too far away from her reach? He leaned forward, expecting to see fear cross her features. But her eyes flicked away from his, toward his brother—and there was confusion there. He frowned at that.

"Thor loves the idea of me," she whispered. A slight shrug of her shoulder made the blanket slip down over her arm. "I guess he's never had a woman who hasn't fallen head over heels for his image: legendary warrior, charming prince of Asgard."

Loki chuckled darkly. "And many have fallen indeed. I suppose you'll insist you're different from the hopeless wenches who follow doe-eyed at his heels? Are you not also in love with the idea of my brother?"

Silence fell between them a moment. Jane's eyes dropped from his, and Loki nodded in satisfaction that he'd won the brief battle of wills. He looked away, out over the desolate landscape.

"I suppose I am," Jane whispered.

Loki turned back to her in surprise.

Jane laughed softly to herself and continued, "What sane human girl wouldn't be? A tall handsome blonde prince falls out of the sky into my lap, bumbling around with no idea how to so much as work a coffee maker." A private kind of smile lit her dark eyes, a secret joy Loki found himself wishing he could be privy to. "It was too endearing not to fall for."

He stared at her for a moment. Then he arced an eyebrow. "So you admit you do not love my brother."

She yawned, unaware of the dark intensity of his scrutiny. "I love him. But perhaps not in the way… he wants." Her eyes closed in a slow, tired flutter. She sighed. "I suppose we're both in love with the ideas we've constructed of the other."

Loki watched her a moment, watched the cinnamon hair skiff across her cheekbones in the gentle wind. The soft rise and fall of her chest as she nuzzles deeper into the cushioned bench. He smirked at how easily she again succumbed to sleep.

He remained at her side, for reasons he couldn't describe why, and let his gaze wander back to Thor's lightly snoring form. His brother's hands remained curled around the handle of his hammer, as if he so much as sensed an approach from Loki he'd be ready to leap up with complete alertness. Loki allowed himself a grim smile while he watched his brother slumber.

Thor claimed not to trust him. But his desperation showed otherwise. Thor fell back on the only alliance he knew—he couldn't help it. Loki shook his head with a low sigh. He truly was the fool he'd always took him for.

"The opposite of you, I think."

Loki blinked, startled, and looked down at Jane. He'd thought her asleep. But when he turned he found her sleepy brown eyes watching him, half-lidded.

"What?"

She let her eyes drift closed again, curling tighter into her makeshift ball with a sigh. "I'm the opposite of you," she murmured. "You hate idea of having a brother."

He chuckled under his breath. "That's the truth."

Jane yawned, and the little sound she made was strangely endearing.

"Mm, you hate the idea of him," she murmured. "But you love Thor."

Loki froze. He stared down at her, his mouth snapping open to retort, to flay her with words at her ignorant statement, but her soft breathing stilled him. She'd truly fallen asleep.

He sat there beside her, unable to take his eyes from her small form. And for the first time in a long, long time, Loki Laufeyson was unsure of his own thoughts.

An immeasurable moment passed. Then, ever so slowly, Loki reached out and tucked the blanket up over her shoulders. Jane sighed in contentment, and the softest ghost of a smile touched her lips. He couldn't pull his gaze from it.

And so the little ship traveled through the wreckage, two passengers oblivious to the dark world around them, while the last struggled with a world of bewilderment within himself.

* * *

**Hell-O dearies!**

**I'll just start by saying, I really do ship Thor_x_Jane, but for some reason I keep having these dreams about _these _two characters falling in love, and I just love it so I'm going to post it. :) I don't know if this will be a one-shot or a full-blown story, I'm still thinking. Tell me what you think, and I may add more if it's well-received. I'm trying to balance this with my other Loki story, _Shades of Red_.**

**Enjoy. Feedback and reviews much appreciated.**


	2. I Didn't Do It For Him

Jane dreamed she was back in Puente Antiguo.

Not with Erik and Darcy, searching for an Einstein Rosen bridge. Not with Thor, fumbling along behind him in a dazed mix of intrigue and apprehension while he charged into S.H.I.E.L.D. to liberate her life's work.

Yet she wasn't by herself, either.

She stood on a small veranda, overlooking a wide backyard covered in sun-browned golden grass. A cheap playground complete with chain swings and a plastic blue slide stood cock-eyed along the edge of a wooden fence. The hot July breeze whisked her hair back from her face, and she took another step into the sunshine.

She'd never set foot in this place before, she knew, but the house, the yard, the playground all glowed with a familiarity that made her feel warm inside.

Two children, a few years apart with the oldest no more than six, sat playing in the grass. The girl's mousy brown hair was knitted back in two French braids, framing her pale round face. She had Jane's almond brown eyes, her mouth curved in a mischievous grin that shot a start of recognition through her. The older little boy had his back to her, fiddling with something in the dirt. His messy bob of hair was jet black, the skin on the back of his neck as pale as his sister's.

The girl poked the boy in the knee and gave him a wider version of that cheeky smile. She grinned down at her hands, which hovered a few inches apart above her lap, palms facing inward. A spark of blue energy surged between them, brightening to a fiery purple glow that popped and fizzled against her fingers.

Jane caught her breath.

The boy laughed and reached forward to tug the little girl's braid, then scooted back to his feet and turned to Jane. Electric blue eyes met hers, and he beamed.

"Mom, look what I caught!"

_Mom. _Jane stared as the boy skipped toward her, cradling something in his hands. He had her nose, she realized, and her eyes. Not the same color, granted, but those were definitely her eyes looking back at her. His face was narrower than the girl's, and paler than Jane's, but the toothy smile he gifted her with made Jane think of pictures of herself at that age.

"Look! Isn't he a beauty?"

The boy skidded to a stop in front of her, holding up the prize in his hands. Jane looked down to see what he presented her, and jumped in surprise.

A tiny, gleaming black snake lay curled in his palm, scales glittering in the harsh New Mexican sun. Its tongue flicked out, shivering on the air, and thousand colors seemed to shimmer within those ebony coils.

She heard herself laugh, and before she knew what she was doing she reached forward and ruffled the child's silken hair.

"Go put it back where you found it," she said.

"But _Mom…"_

"Snakes belong in the wild," Jane heard herself saying. "Not under kitchen tables for your mother to find like _last _time, or in your sister's lunchbox." She pinched the boy's cheek. "You're just like your father."

"What about me?" said a voice. Arms encircled her from behind, tender in their strength, and pulled her back against a firm chest. "Do what your mother tells you, Erik."

_Erik, _Jane thought. _Did I name my son after him?_

She heard herself speaking again, as if she didn't have control over her own tongue. "Frigga, go inside and wash that dirt off your hands before dinner."

"Yes, Mama." The little girl pushed herself up off the grass and skipped past Jane into the house.

_Frigga? _A pang shot through her at the name of the kind, strong woman who'd died protecting her. But Jane wondered why she had named her daughter after Thor's mother.

The arms tightened around her while these thoughts swirled in her head, and she felt someone tall bend to rest their chin atop her shoulder. "How is your research coming?" hummed a voice in her ear, one that wasn't Thor's, but sent a foreign kind of shiver through her. "I haven't seen you all day."

Her research? If this was in the future, she still had time to work on new scientific discoveries? The thought brought a smile to her face. She turned to the man behind her.

"Sorry about that," she heard herself murmur. "Let me make it up to you."

The Jane of the dream stretched up on her toes to kiss him, and somewhere in the back of her mind the real Jane registered that the feel of his lips definitely wasn't Thor's, nor was the roguish chuckle that followed.

"I like the sound of that," replied the voice that suddenly—and her stomach dropped to her knees—she could finally place.

She jerked back from him. Loki stared down at her, ice-blue eyes crinkled with mirth with a devilish smirk on his face.

Jane awoke with a start.

For a few terrifying seconds, she didn't know where she was. The sky hung dark and brooding above her, deep sienna roiling as if they hailed a storm. Sharp, jagged shadows jut up into the darkness, a broken ruin of whatever kingdom had once thrived here. Jane caught her breath, her heart hammering in her chest in the aftermath of the dream. She sat up slowly, and her eyes connected with a horribly familiar pair of blue ones across the skiff.

Loki stood where she'd last seen him, steering the ship with expert—though bound—hands through the wreckage. Thor sat beside him on the bench, rubbing his own eyes as if he'd just woken up. The taller prince met her frightened gaze and arced an eyebrow at her in characteristic mockery. But he said nothing.

Jane was about to open her mouth to ask them where they were, but a sharp tug in the center of her chest made her breath hitch. She felt the irrepressible urge to turn. Something… something dark and enthralling… filled her veins in a fierce, slow burn. A shiver rattled her bones. She blinked. The world winked into sudden clarity.

Darkness was coming. She could feel it, rumbling over the land, calling to her. It beckoned her soul to draw nearer, to approach and let the shadows take her, to give herself up. The sensation of duty to answer the call was almost overpowering.

"Jane?" Thor's voice came from far away. But Jane's ears were not for him.

"Malekith," she breathed, a whisper of longing not her own.

Thor's hand on her arm broke her from the trance. She looked up into his concerned face and a thrill of fear raced through her.

"Thor," she rasped. "I… I can feel him." She swallowed, hard. "He's close."

The warrior's brow furrowed, but he leaned forward to press a reassuring kiss to her brow. It did nothing to lessen the knot of fear in her stomach.

"It's almost over, Jane," he murmured. "Stay strong."

Jane pressed her lips together and tried to give him a nod, but her whole body was shaking too much for it to make any noticeable difference. Loki guided the craft to a halt and she let Thor help her down to the cold black sand. It sank beneath her feet in a sickening way, more like rubble or ash than earth.

Loki led the way wordlessly to the crest of a hill, and looked down over the valley beyond. By the stiffening of his shoulders, and the anticipatory surge of the aether within her, Jane knew exactly who lay over the rise.

"Are you ready?" Thor asked her when they came to Loki's side.

Jane looked out over the valley toward the ragged black ship where Malekith and a band of shadow-clad Dark Elves stood waiting. Her mouth felt too dry to reply.

"_I _am," Loki replied. Jane and Thor both glanced at him, but his gaze was on hers, a smirk painting his gaunt face. She heard Thor sigh in irritation behind her.

Loki rose from his predatory crouch, and Thor straightened with him. They walked a few paces in front of Jane, now easily visible to the otherworldly creatures at the base of the hill. Jane tried to take a step forward, but Loki turned his head just slightly and shot her a pointed look. She stilled. Unless she imagined it, she glimpsed a protective glint in his eye she'd never seen before.

"You know," he muttered to his brother. "This plan of yours is going to get us killed."

"Yes, possibly," Thor retorted. Loki turned to him and lifted his shackled hands to fill the air between them. Thor just looked at them.

"You still don't trust me, brother?" A hard smile returns to those eyes, that hint of a devil in the blue.

Thor looked at him, long and hard. "Would you?"

The smile remained. A heartbeat later, Thor sighed and reached forward to unlock the metal cuffs around his little brother's wrists. Loki beamed at him, and Thor scowled in return while the younger prince rubbed his wrists with exaggerated care. They both of them turn to look out over the dark landscape below.

Then came the voice—the darker voice—that caught Jane's breath in her throat.

"No, I wouldn't."

Loki struck like an adder. He whirled and drove a fist into Thor's gut, slamming him backward. Jane screamed when she saw the blood glinting off a knife in his hand. Thor bellowed in pain, but Loki was already shoving him off the cliff. The shock of blond hair disappeared over the ledge. Loki leaped after him.

"Thor!' Jane yelped, lunging after them both. But Loki was far swifter than she. Thor rolled to a stop at the bottom of the hill, curling inward on himself in agony. Loki strode forward, a sadistic snarl curling his lips.

"You really think I cared about Frigga? About any of you?"

He delivered a brutal kick to Thor's side. Thor jerked back with a grunt. Jane broke into a sprint. Malekith was approaching the one-sided duel, a giant of an elf and more warriors hard on his heels.

"No," she gasped.

"All I ever wanted was you and Odin dead at my feet!"

Thor struggled to lift his hand, to reach for _Mjolnir_. But Loki was faster. He leaped forward and slashed down with the bloodied blade. Thor and Jane's screams filled the air in unison. Thor's hand severed dropped to the ground.

Jane lurched to a stop beside his writhing form and fell to her knees, her own hands shaking. _Thor, Thor, Thor… _She was too numb to think of what to do.

A rough arm closed over her waist, jerking her to her feet. Jane gasped and struggled against Loki, cursing how feeble she was against the god's strength. He yanked her up so her feet left the ground, one hand splayed over her stomach, pinning her to his chest.

"Malekith!" he roared, his voice reverberating against her back loud enough that she winced. Jane looked up in horror to see the Dark Elf watching them with an inscrutable expression. She wriggled harder in Loki's grip.

_"Stop fighting me,"_ came an almost inaudible whisper against her hair. Jane stilled. The words held no malice, only a vital sense of urgency.

"I am Loki, of Jotunheim," he went on in his booming voice. "And I bring you a gift."

Jane squeaked in terror when he tossed her to the ground, an arm's length from the creature's feet. She forced herself to meet Malekith's gaze on her hands and knees. The elf regarded her, a darkness in his eyes that made her blood run cold. Then he looked back at Loki, an unspoken question in his stare.

"I only ask one thing in return," the prince declared with a sneer. "A good seat from which to watch Asgard burn."

_No, _Jane cried out with every fiber of her being.

Malekith watched him for a moment more, and the huge monster behind him leaned forward to mutter in his ear, words in a guttural language she couldn't understand.

Malekith nodded, then turned and strode past Jane to where Thor lay moaning on the ground. He kicked him with a cruel foot to roll him over. Jane cringed.

"Look at me," the elf commanded. Thor glared in defiance up into his eyes, and Jane felt at least a tiny spark of pride. But all triumph turned straight to cold fear when Malekith turned toward her once again. He lifted a hand.

Her feet left the ground. Jane's arms flew out to catch herself, but there was nothing for her. The darkness returned in full force, tugging at her insides, storming against her skin, searching for a way to get to its master. The world vanished in a flash of black.

_The Earth, spinning on its pale blue axis, helpless and vulnerable before the onslaught of darkness. Red creeps into the corners of her vision. The stars turn crimson. The sea turns to blood. Every continent passes into shadow, the aether racing outward throughout the galaxy, the universe, destroying, consuming…_

Jane gasped when she felt the first of it leave her. Her eyes burned as it streamed from them, her mouth, her nose, from beneath her fingertips. She could feel it clawing up her throat, burning and tearing as it went. Her mouth opened in a silent scream.

And then it was over. The last of the vile aether slipped from her body, and Malekith let her slump to the ground. She couldn't bring herself to rise.

_It's over, _she thought. _It's all over. I can't bear to watch them kill Thor. Let them kill me first. Let it all be done…_

She froze when she heard Thor's voice, entirely different from the pain-racked groaning moments before.

"Loki!" he bellowed. _"Now!"_

Jane lifted her face from the ground. Loki waved a hand and Thor's arm materialized once again, whole and unmarred. Her mouth fell open. Thor raised his hand and summoned _Mjolnir_ before Malekith could even register the false betrayal. The hammer crackled with energy, lightning coalescing the sky above.

Loki spun and raced for Jane, and she barely had time to know fear before he threw himself over her, shielding her from _Mjolnir's _destructive blast.

The air screamed with explosions for a full half-minute, and Jane clapped her hands over her ears. Then everything stilled. All she could hear was her heart beating, and Loki breathing raggedly against the back of her neck.

She opened her eyes. Dust filled the air. Thor stood panting, _Mjolnir _in hand, looking around with wary eyes. Loki rolled off Jane and tugged her to her feet. The haze cleared enough for her to see Malekith and his brute standing tall amidst the drifting flakes of bloodred aether.

Then the Dark Elf stretched out his arms. As if called, the aether surged into him, and he threw back his head with a triumphant roar as the darkness rushed into ever crevice of his armor, his mouth, his eyes. His eyes snapped open. They gleamed with a darkness so intense Jane couldn't breathe.

A heartbeat passed. Then he turned with a jerk of his head toward his followers, and headed for the ship.

The monsters advanced on them. Thor started in on them immediately, swinging his hammer with abandon. Elves flew left and right. The dark giant glanced at Jane, pulled an object from its belt and threw it in her direction. She didn't know what it was, but she heard Loki's sharp intake of breath. He whirled and thrust her out of the way.

The bomb exploded midair, a dark roiling mass of black that sucked in all that came close. Jane shrieked when she saw the vacuum catch hold of Loki. He tried to lunge forward but the raging pull lifted him into the air, arms flailing, armor, dagger and all. His blue eyes widened, and for a fraction of an instant, Jane saw a flash of resignation in them. Her breath stopped.

Thor blasted out of nowhere, snatching Loki from the bomb's path and slamming him back to the ground. Dust exploded, and Jane shielded her eyes, straining to see if they were all right.

The brothers' silhouettes loomed once again out of the haze, and she breathed a sigh of relief—only to get hit like a freight train by the staggering realization. Her wide eyes met Loki's, to find him searching her face with an uncertain gaze of his own.

_He was willing to die for me._

The thudding whir of Thor's hammer snapped her back to the moment. Malekith's ship was rising, rippling as cloaking panels plunged the craft into invisibility. Thor shot off from the ground like a rocket, straight for the ship's siding. Jane saw the shields sizzle to life, and opened her mouth to cry out a warning—too late.

Thor ricocheted off the shield with a pained grunt and smashed back into the ground, only to face the rapid approaching giant of a dark elf. The monster tore into the Asgardian, heavy blows raining down until one harsh uppercut sent Thor flying back into the stonefields.

Loki's low voice cut her off before she could scream again. "Get back, Jane."

Jane turned to see four ghost-like warriors in skeletal masks encircling the other prince. She scrambled back, but they had no eyes for her.

Then Loki moved. Jane had seen Thor fight before, but his brother's combat style was as polar opposite as a bear and a panther. Loki didn't just fight—he _danced. _Jane watched open-mouthed as he spun and twirled, the silver dagger flashing in the muted light, every movement extracting a howl of pain from the enemy. Pure, feral glee blazed in his blue eyes, a primal fire that made her stomach jump in a strange way. Three of the dark elves fell within seconds, but the fourth struck him in the ribcage with the weapon he held. Loki snarled and wrenched it from its grip, then spun him around and slashed the blade across its throat. The elf twitched for a moment, and Loki hurled him to the ground, then looked up. Jane followed his gaze.

Thor lay on his back, blood pouring from a gash in his forehead while the brute rained down blow after blow. Jane moved without thinking. She lunged forward to go to him, but gave an involuntary yelp when Loki's hard grip on her elbow yanked her back.

_"Stay _put," he hissed, fingers biting into her arm. She turned to see cold blue eyes boring into hers, just inches away. Loki pushed her back and turned to his brother. He stooped, retrieved the jagged halberd from the fallen dark elf, and approached the monster.

Jane watched his retreating form, and then—despite everything in her screaming for her to follow his orders and stay back—she stumbled after him.

Thor groaned in pain, but raised his head stubbornly off the ground to stare his attacker in the eye. The brute raised his fist for another blow.

Loki sprang. The beast snarled in pain, back arcing with the halberd protruding from its chest. He turned slowly, a low rumble in its throat. Then he seized Loki by the shoulders and slammed him up onto the bloodied spear.

_"NO!" _Thor roared.

Loki stared at the man in apparent shock, but Jane caught the flash of movement of his hands at the dark elf's belt. With one brutal twist, the beast ripped Loki off the spear and flung him away. He landed hard on his back with a gasp of pain. The monster advanced on him.

Loki lifted his head, his whole frame shaking in agony, but a triumphant light burned in his eyes. "See you in hell, monster."

A light flashed in scarlet alarm at the creature's belt. It looked down, then scrambled to unclasp the grenade Loki had activated. Not fast enough.

The explosion blistered through the air, a howling whirlwind of negative energy. The monster's howl of agony fizzled out in one bloodcurdling jerk, its arms and legs and torso imploding on themselves. Fire swirled about its writhing form, compacting the carnage smaller and smaller until the thing disappeared altogether.

Thor lurched to his feet and sprinted for his brother.

"No!" he rasped, pulling Loki up onto his lap. "No, no, no…"

Loki's breath came in ragged heaves. Thor's face contorted as if he felt the pain just as strong. "Ah, you fool. You didn't listen!"

"I know," Loki gasped. "I'm a fool." His voice cracked, his face screwing up. "I'm a fool."

Thor clutched his face with one hand. "Stay with me," he demanded. "Okay?"

"I'm sorry," Loki spluttered. His skin was turning gray, ridges appearing on his high cheekbones. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Thor said, his voice broken. "I'll tell father what you did here today."

Loki looked up at him with a strange expression. One that made Jane's heart twist like she had a spear through her own chest.

"I didn't do it for him," he whispered. Then he closed his eyes.

Thor stared at him, stricken, for a second, and then a gut-wrenching cry tore across the wasteland. Grief unspeakable roared in Jane's ears, and all she could do was watch as Thor gathered his fallen brother to his chest.

Finally he lifted his gaze to meet hers, so much pain and rage it made his huge frame shake. Jane wished she could inject some strength into her gaze, to help him restore some of his own, but she had no strength left to draw from. Thor seemed to read that in her eyes, and he bowed his head over the still form of his brother. Then, slowly, he stood.

"Come, Jane," he said, voice ragged and deadly. "We go to finish this."


	3. Moving On

_"Some things just couldn't be protected from storms. Some things simply need to be broken off… Once old things were broken off, amazingly beautiful things could grow in their place." _

—_Denise Hildreth Jones_

* * *

He did it again.

Jane watched the mug in the microwave travel around and around, hugging her arms against herself. She clenched the tea bag in her hand, steadying her breathing to the low hum of the kitchen appliance.

One year, four months, and eighteen days, since Greenwich.

It wasn't two years. Not yet. But Jane was done. She was done, and she was selfish.

Because it was, really. Quite horribly selfish to put oneself above the teeming masses of people in need of rescuing. Pure vanity to wish she could hold priority in the eyes of someone who only wished the best for her planet. She had no right to expect anything more of him. He was her Guardian, crossing stars and worlds to protect her little Midgard, and if those adventures called him away for years at a time—who was she to complain?

Jane watched the green digits tick down inside the microwave screen, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Her Guardian. Who was she kidding? A hero, who stood unblinking in the face of duty, would never truly be _hers. _

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Her movements felt mechanical as she popped open the door, withdrew her steaming mug, and dropped the tea bag inside. She watched the deep green tendrils of flavor seep out from the bag, swirling inside the water. How she wished the ache in her chest would dissolve so easily.

"Jane?"

Darcy's voice floated out to her from the living room. Jane didn't turn around to her roommate. Her ex-intern turned best-friend had opted to reenroll in her studies, with a new focus in astrophysics. Perhaps some of the craziness in Greenwich had inspired her to take a fresh look at the sciences. Darcy had always enjoyed the crazy in life, however much her scattered personality would chafe under the discipline of Jane's career. With her pockets freshly drained by paying for tuition, Darcy had moved in with Jane to save herself some debt. And, as much as her friend tried to deny it, Jane knew part of the reason for Darcy's moving in was to keep an eye on her after Thor's disappearance.

"I'm heading to the store. Do you need anything?"

Jane brought the tea to her lips and sipped. The warmth eased the hollowness inside her just the slightest bit.

"I'm fine, Darce. Thanks."

"Right-o. See you in a couple hours."

The door opened, closed, and clicked as she turned the lock. Jane sighed and looked down into her tea.

_"Promise me you'll come back this time."_

_She stood, hands against Thor's armor-laden chest, her hair whipping in the English wind. The tall warrior chuckled, laid a hand against her cheek._

_"I always come back to you," he said. _

_Jane shook her head, dislodging his hand in the motion. Thor frowned._

_"Not after two years, Thor. I can't wait that long for you."_

_The Asgardian's face darkened. _

_"Jane… I cannot promise a swift return. War is stirring amongst the realms. I am needed to keep the peace, to maintain balance. Asgard is deeply shaken after all these events."_

_Jane's throat tightened. "I forgot. You're a prince."_

_His large hand cupped her cheek, tipping her face up toward him. She blinked hard to keep back the tears. _

_"And as a prince," Thor said, deep voice soft. "I have the authority to do as I wish, despite the disapproval of others. I made a mistake leaving you here last time, and I don't intend to leave you like that again."_

_Jane swallowed. "I don't understand."_

_"Come with me, Jane Foster."_

_It took a full minute for the depth of those words to sink in._

_"With you? To Asgard?"_

_"Why not? There I can keep you safe. You need not fear the creatures of this world, or any other. You will be where I can always keep watch over you. Time and space will not separate us."_

_Jane's heart was racing too fast for her to keep up with her thoughts._

_"But… what about my work?"_

_Thor laughed. "Work?"_

_"The findings I've made, my research, the Einstein Rosen-bridge, the data of another world—"_

_He cut off her words with a kiss. _

_"There is no need for you to continue that," he says when he pulls away. "You have me. What use is there for these trinkets and space-seekers when you've found the real thing?"_

_Jane shook her head. "It's not just about me. These people, the world, they need to know what's out there. That they're not alone. That there's so much more, just within their reach. They can touch the stars, Thor! It's the greatest step mankind has taken since we landed on the moon! Don't you see I can't just give this up?"_

_He was looking at her strangely. When her words finally stopped flowing, she realized a certain distance had stepped in between them, despite her hands still on his chest._

_"Jane," he said slowly. "I cannot protect you if you remain here on earth to do your research. You must understand that."_

_"I don't need protection," she countered. "I just need to know you're coming back."_

_He hesitated, long enough to put a tingle of doubt in her stomach. _

_"I will return for you when the danger has calmed," he said. "Until then, I will do everything in the power to ensure that you remain safe, even if I must remain off-world to do so."_

_Jane reached down to grip his hand in hers. "I'll be waiting for you," she promised. _

_He smiled, but it was a grim one. "I know."_

And so she had.

She had waited months. Well into a year. Finally, approaching a year and a half, she was beginning to feel the cold, familiar pangs of abandonment.

A buzz in her pocket broke her from her lonely reverie. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she looked at the caller and bit her lip.

_Richard. _

It had been so long since he'd called. She'd thought he'd taken the hint that she wasn't interested, after their first date fell to disaster over a plate of sea bass, and their second phone call had ended with Greenwich almost falling apart.

The phone continued to hum.

Swallowing her misgivings, Jane hit _accept _and lifted it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Jane! It's been a long time. How are you?"

"Fine," she replied, wincing at how hollow her voice sounded. "How are you?"

"Great. Listen, well…" He seemed to squirm on the other end of the line. "I was calling to see you wanted to have dinner with me. On Friday. If you're free."

Jane stood there as the phone went quiet, listening to her heart beat in her ears.

_It's been a year, _said the voice in her head. _You deserve to move on._

It was two years last time, she reminded herself. He came back for her.

_Are you really willing to wait so long every time? Where is your life going?_

Jane covered her eyes with her hand.

"I'm busy on Friday."

The man on the other end let out a breath. "Oh. Okay."

_Do you really want it to continue on like this? Day in, day out? _

_Just waiting?_

Jane took a deep breath. "But I'm not busy on Saturday."

"Really?"

Richard almost squeaked, and Jane smiled.

"I mean, fantastic. Let's make it a date. How does seven o'clock sound?"

"Seven sounds fine."

"You know, there's this little place on the wharf by the docks. Kind of a dive, but I hear it's got great sea bass."

Jane couldn't help but laugh. "No. I'm not really in the mood for fish."

"Me neither. I just wanted to say it."

She could hear the smile in his voice, and felt one of her own spreading across her face.

"I'll look forward to it," she told him honestly.

"Me too. I'll see you at seven on Saturday, then?"

"See you."

"Have a wonderful evening, Jane."

She let him hang up first, then returned the phone to her pocket. She couldn't bring herself to move from her position in front of the microwave.

A date. This Saturday. Darcy would throw a fit.

* * *

She wasn't wrong. The minute the words were out of her mouth, Darcy let out a shriek to rival a banshee and threw her arms around Jane's neck.

"I'm so proud of you!" she cried. "Who is it? Is he handsome? How come you waited until _tonight _to tell me?"

"It's Richard."

Darcy stared at her a moment, and then wrinkled her nose.

"Sea bass guy?"

"Why does everyone still remember that?"

Darcy blew out a sigh. "I suppose it's better than Mr. Rock-Solid light years out there in space."

Jane shot her a look.

"What? I said I was proud of you. You deserve better."

Why did her throat keep closing up like that?

"I'm not sure what I deserve anymore," she murmured, turning away.

Darcy didn't let her get off so easy. Taking hold of her roommate's shoulder, she spun Jane around and gave her a once-over.

"Well, I'll tell you what you _don't _deserve. Nobody deserves to go out dressed like that. Come on, Foster. We're giving you a makeover."

"Darcy…"

"Where's he taking you?"

"You really don't have to—"

"Where?"

Jane sighed. "_La fleur D'or."_

Darcy's mouth dropped open. "You are most definitely _not _going in that. Come on."

Jane didn't even bother trying to resist as Darcy pulled her up the stairs toward her bedroom.

Two hours later, Jane emerged from the bathroom, tugging at the silken dress and wishing it covered more of her chest. Like she had any chest to reveal. Darcy turned around from where she stood waiting and clapped her hands, dark eyes bursting with delight.

"You look like a princess!"

Jane swallowed. "I think it might be too low."

"Not at all. Just the right amount of tease. Turn around and look at yourself."

Jane did as she commanded, slowly turning to gaze in the full-length mirror by her bedroom wall.

She didn't recognize the woman in the mirror.

It had been ages since she'd dressed up for anything more than the occasional work throwback, but even then she never decked herself out like this. Her hair had been swept up off her neck, pinned into place with gentle ringlets around her ears. Silver earrings dangled against her neck, matching the silver sheen of the deep green evening dress she wore. A light dusting of makeup, shadow and mascara drew out the flecks of gold in her eyes. She looked… breathtaking.

Which was a word Jane Foster had never used to describe herself.

"So?" Darcy pressed. "You like?"

Jane smoothed the dress down over her hips, lips parting at the way the satiny material ruffles and shushed against her palms.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

"Great. Here comes Prince Charming."

On cue, the doorbell chimed below.

* * *

Richard couldn't take his eyes off her. Even when they sat down to order food, and the waiter approached with a bottle of wine, Jane felt her face warming at his scrutiny. After a full three minutes hiding behind her menu, she lowered it to meet his gaze. His Adam's apple bobbed.

"Uh… sorry. You look…" He returned his eyes to her face, neck going a little red. "You just look really beautiful, is all."

"Thank you," Jane said, setting down her menu. "I think I've decided."

"On what?"

"I was thinking sea bass sounded nice."

He chuckled. "And here I thought I'd pushed my limits with that joke."

"I really appreciated that, by the way."

He raised his eyebrows. "Me bringing up sea bass?"

"That you gave me a second chance, after I ruined our first date."

"You didn't ruin it. I've had loads of girls walk out on me when their ex-boyfriends turn up after two years."

Jane's face heated. "I am so sorry about that—"

A jolt of surprise went through her when he covered her hand with his own. His were warm and sturdy.

"Don't worry about it. I just couldn't believe what a lucky guy I was to be able to take you on that second date."

Jane smiled at him. "I won't run off on you this time."

"Hope not. There's no sea bass on the menu for me to binge on."

They talked like that for hours, friendly banter back and forth, teasing and making light of a once awkward situation. By the end of the evening, Jane could actually say she'd had a good time.

He drove her back to the little high-rise apartment she and Darcy shared on the edge of town. Jane drew her shrug a little tighter around herself when he came around to open the door for her. The December night air felt crisp and sharp against her exposed skin.

"Thank you," she said to Richard when he offered her his arm. He walked her up the front steps, hesitating when they reached the top and stopped in front of her door. She could see his throat working, and a sudden discomfort stole over her she couldn't explain.

"Well, I had a lovely night," she offered.

He nodded, trying to pull on a confident smile, but she could see a schoolboy bashfulness in his eyes.

"I did too," he said. Then he tightened his grip on her elbow, leaned forward, and kissed her on the cheek.

"Let's do this again sometime?" he asked hopefully, drawing back.

Jane smiled, feeling a little guilty she was grateful he'd just gone for the cheek.

"I'd like that."

He smiled, for real, at that. Then he turned and headed back down the steps in the direction of his car.

Jane stood in front of the door, staring after him for a few moments. Then, taking a deep breath, she fished out her keys and opened the door.

And almost screamed.

"I called you ten times!" Darcy sputtered, her white-knuckled grip shaking around the taser. "I have no idea how he got here! He just appeared out of nowhere, I swear."

Jane stumbled back against the doorframe.

There, at her feet, all angles and wild black hair and green-plated armor, lay the God of Mischief.


	4. Don't You Dare

_"I guess darkness serves a purpose: to show us that there is redemption through chaos."_

—_Brendan Fraser_

* * *

"What are we going to do with him?"

Jane stared at the man sprawled upon the floor. Her heart beat like a trapped bird within her breast as she stood frozen by the door, hand sealed to the doorknob. Loki hadn't stirred in the slightest. For a moment, she wondered if he even breathed. But the longer she watched, the more certain she became of the slight rise and fall of his armor-plated chest. He looked like he'd fallen from a great height, limbs scattered in all directions, a slight bruise forming beneath one of his cheekbones.

"I'm going to call the police."

"Wait," Jane said, before Darcy could fish out her cell phone.

Jane knelt down beside Loki's still form, hesitating with her hand stretched out toward him. Darcy sucked in a breath.

"What? Jane, we have to turn him in!"

She ignored her friend, hovering her fingertips just above the fallen Asgardian's chest. She pressed her palm against his armored breastplate. After a few seconds, the steady beat of a strong heart pulsed against her hand.

"He's alive," she whispered to Darcy.

"That's the problem!"

Jane looked up at the other girl, who still stood clutching the taser with both hands in front of her.

"What do you think the police will do to him?"

"Throw him in jail! Put him on trial for his crimes against humanity!"

"We can't turn him over to them."

"Hello? New York! _Super _villain, Jane."

Jane swallowed, rising slowly to her feet.

"He saved my life."

Darcy blinked. The taser lowered a fraction of an inch.

"You're serious."

"I owe him, Darcy."

The taser lowered several more inches. But Darcy's face was still screwed into a scowl.

"He's killed hundreds of people, Jane. Saving you doesn't make up for that."

"It doesn't. Never in a thousand years. But I have a debt to repay."

Finally, the taser dropped to Darcy's side. Her roommate let out a gusty sigh.

"What do you propose we do with him then?"

Jane looked down at the demigod on the floor.

"Well, we can't just leave him lying there. Help me get him to the couch."

"He won't fit on the couch. Too tall."

"A bed, then."

"No way he's going on mine!_"_

"Calm down; I'm taking the couch, and we'll put him on mine."

Darcy eyed the giant of a prince with a skeptical grimace.

"He's like… seven feet, Jane," came her last-ditch protest.

"So lift from your knees."

Darcy groaned, but tucked her taser away into the back pocket of her jeans and stepped forward. Jane hitched up the knees of her dress and slid her forearms beneath Loki's shoulders. Darcy took up his feet with a grunt.

"My word," she gasped. "He looks like a stick and weighs ten elephants!"

Jane gritted her teeth at the startling weight, but held him upright until they stumbled into her bedroom. They dumped him unceremoniously unto the bed.

"What now?" Darcy panted.

Jane looked at him, rolling her lower lip between her teeth.

"Maybe we should call a doctor."

Darcy snorted. "He's an _alien, _Jane. A doctor would take one look at that freaky blood of his and call Men in Black."

She was right. Jane crossed her arms over her chest, fisting her hands into the backs of her arms.

"Well," Darcy said after a long moment. "It is quarter after midnight. I am tired, and I don't want to have to worry about bat crazy super diva in here waking up and murdering me in my sleep."

She turned on her heel, strode to the kitchen, and returned a few moments later, a roll of duct tape in her hand.

"You know, my fantasies about doing this to someone _never _turned out like this."

"You're not seriously—"

"Smart people take precautions, Dr. Foster."

The squelching rip of tape unwinding cut off Jane's reply. Darcy looped the silver ribbon around both of Loki's wrists, plastering them to the headboard in layers upon layer of tape. Then she moved to his boots for good measure, and Jane rolled her eyes.

"He's a demigod, Darcy; he'll just pull straight through those when he wakes up."

"You're the one who wanted to keep him!" Darcy turned and threw the duct tape into Jane's chest. "Your responsibility. Three days. Three days, and then I'm calling the police."

"Darcy…"

But she was already marching from the room, shutting the door firmly behind her. Jane stood alone in her bedroom with the god of mischief, wondering if she hadn't just made the biggest mistake of her life.

* * *

He knew exactly whom he'd been sent to. Idiotic, really, that they thought she could be of any help. He'd rather forge his way through this miserable planet on his own, stripped of magic and strength.

But his dreams were plagued by her. Weakness and pain rippled up and down across his body, and he could not resist the darkness holding him hostage. When he did finally open his eyes, the brilliant shafts of light spearing into his vision plunged him straight back into a painful oblivion.

He couldn't shake her. She flitted through his thoughts, sweeping into his unconsciousness, until he found himself standing in a bright sunlit corridor. Flanked by his brother and the cold stone pillars, he felt the familiar bite of metal against his wrists. Lovely. His illness-addled mind had transported him back to the place they'd first met. With a low sigh, he looked up, already knowing what was coming.

Her chestnut brown hair skiffed against her shoulders as she marched down the hall, Sif hot on her heels. Dark brown eyes caught hold of Thor in an instant, moving next to him. Recognition swept across her features. Shock. Anger.

_Here we go._

"You're…"

"I'm Loki." He graced her with the cockiest grin he could muster. "You may have heard of me—"

_PHWACK._

His head flew back, pain flaring along his jaw.

"That was for New York."

He turned back to her with a slow grin. Her tiny form practically shook with rage, brown eyes burning into his face. He glanced at Thor, whom he could see was fighting valiantly to restrain his own grin.

"I like her," he declared.

Jane's face told him she'd like nothing more than to hit him again.

The scene morphed into something else. Dark sands and a bloodshot sky, frozen wind ripping along the plains. He lay half-covered in sand and blood, a strange electricity crackling up and down his graying skin. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to have full control over the illusion… he was supposed to actually _die_.

Arms encircled him from behind, a great blond head bowed in anguish over his own.

"He's gone, Thor," whispered a voice.

Small hands took hold of his brother's shoulders, which had begun to shake.

"I cannot leave him," Thor whispered raggedly.

"We have to go," Jane said in a voice that cracked.

Loki felt he was looking down on himself from far away, watching the both of them slowly rise, the much larger being leaning heavily on his companion's slight frame.

"I will avenge him." Thor's hiss was murderous.

Jane tightened her hands around his arm, pressing her lips together. Thor took hold of her hand, squeezed it, and slowly disentangled himself. He stretched out his arm, drew Mjolnir to himself, and walked with purposeful strides back toward the waiting aircraft.

Jane lingered, however. She took a few steps forward and stared down at his breathless corpse, a frown crumpling her forehead. She drew in an unsteady breath, the harsh wind whipping the hair around her pale face. To his astonishment, he saw a suspicious shimmer on the brims of her eyelashes.

"Do me a favor," she whispered. Her voice trembled. "Don't be dead. You _don't_ do that to him, you hear? After everything you've done, you have no right. He's lost you once before. Your mother needs you _both _to stop this madman." She swallowed hard. "So don't you dare be dead."

Her breath hiccuped in her chest, and her voice lowered to the faintest whisper.

"I'm begging you, Loki."

Sniffing and squeezing her eyes shut, she turned and tromped back across the sands to where Thor stood waiting to carry out his wrath.

* * *

Loki didn't wake up for two and a half days. Darcy's ultimatum was counting down fast, and Jane found herself worrying that she'd make good on her threat and bring the police raining down on their heads.

But so far, nothing.

Jane rubbed the back of her neck with one hand, stirring her steaming cup of coffee with the other. Her muscles ached. The couch barely fit her slim five-four frame, and the springs beneath the threadbare cushions didn't provide half the amount of comfort as a real bed. She sighed, kneading the sore tendons with her fingers, and took a sip from her coffee.

What was she doing this for? _Who _was she doing this for? Loki had saved her life, yes, but what did she really owe him? He may have saved one person, but that hardly made up for destroying the lives of half a city. Jane still saw memorials, covered in pictures and flowers, whenever she walked into downtown Manhattan for work. Two thousand people, gone. And here she sat, a martyr taking the couch so she could offer her bed to the monster who'd caused so much grief.

_He's not a monster, _said a small voice in the back of her head.

Did monsters risk their lives to save mortal human scientists?

She frowned and shook off the thoughts, downed the rest of her coffee, and headed back to her room to grab a scarf and hat before she left for work. Opening her door, she crossed the bedroom and went straight for her closet. The weather forecast warned of slush and ice, overcast all day, so Jane stretched up to her tiptoes to pull down a knit beanie from her shelf. Then she looped a scarf around her neck, checked herself in the full length mirror, and turned.

She'd meant only to give a cursory glance to her house guest, but when her gaze moved over his form, something punched the breath right out of her lungs.

Cool blue eyes had cracked open, fixed on her.

Jane gasped, stepped back against the closet door. Loki's brow slowly furrowed, and his eyes traveled over her form, around the room, widening slowly when they took in the bed he lay on. The tendons in his neck jerked when he tried to sit up. Jane heard the low squeak of tape securing him to the wooden headboard. He gave his wrists a tug, blinking in a foggy confusion.

"What in Helheim have you done to me, woman?"

His voice came out groggy and low, slurred as if he'd had one too many pints to drink. Jane swallowed, drawing herself up, trying to remember that she was the one in control here—she had no reason to be afraid.

"How did you get here?" she demanded.

Loki jerked at the tape again, his confused expression turning to a scowl. He looked up at her, blue eyes piercing.

"Release me from these infernal bonds."

Jane blinked. "Can't you get out of them yourself?"

She watched his fists clench, shuddering against their restrictions.

"If I could, I would have wasted no breath asking for your assistance."

Jane took a few cautious steps forward, until he had to tilt his gaze upward to look at her. The scowl didn't leave.

"Your Asgardian strength is gone," she murmured. "Does that mean your magic is gone, too?"

He glared at her. "Of all the places…"

He thumped his head back onto the pillow, swearing low under his breath in some other tongue. Jane took another step closer.

"Who sent you here?"

"Whom do you think, mortal?"

"Thor?"

Loki closed his eyes, sighing sharply through his nose. "Are you going to keep me here for your own amusement, or will you let me up?"

Jane hesitated. "How do I know you won't try to hurt me or my friend?"

"I could not hurt you if I tried," he spat. "My magic is gone, my godly strength sapped from me. A lesser creature would stand and gloat, but I always took you for the nobler sort. So take off these ridiculous bindings."

She rocked back on her heels, arms still tightly crossed. It was hard to keep her gaze from wavering under that icy blue one.

"First, tell me how you got here."

"Mm, and lose my leverage? Untie me. Then we'll talk."

Jane blew out her breath. But after a few seconds of glaring into that unflinching face, she moved to her bedside nightstand and withdrew a pair of scissors from the drawer. Leaning over him, she slid one of the blades beneath the tape and snipped. Loki hissed in pain when she began to rip it off from around his wrist.

"_Jaevla," _he swore again in Norse. "Did you sew that to my body? It's taking my skin off!"

"Relax." Jane moved to his other hand, and couldn't resist shooting him a vindictive smirk. "Just the top layer."

Now she found herself in the awkward position of leaning over his chest, her hair brushing against his collarbone. She grit her teeth and did her best to ignore the way she could _definitely _hear him inhale.

"I wonder what my brother would think of a sight like this."

The breath of his speech fluttered against her neck, low and silky. Jane turned her head to glare at him, and quickly realized it was a bad decision. Their faces were inches apart.

"Distracted, are we? Get on with it, I haven't got all day."

Jane jerked her gaze from his and tore off the rest of the duct tape none to gently. His pained hiss brought a perverse sense of satisfaction.

She drew back to his boots and removed the last of the tape securing him to the bed.

"Now, for the answer to my—"

He moved faster than she could blink, and Jane's breath cut off with his long fingers at her throat. Her back hit the wall behind her.

"I think first," he growled, cool breath skimming across her face. "You'll answer some of mine."

Jane gasped, but her breath sucked. Her fingers clawed into his leather-clad bicep. The tip of his mouth curved, but his eyes remained ice-cold.

"How long have I been here?"

Jane kicked against his shins, her eyes popping. Loki lessened his grip just a centimeter on her throat, and her breath scraped past in a low whistle.

"How long?" he repeated, his smooth voice almost bored.

"Two—" Jane choked out. "Two days."

"Has my brother made contact with you during this time?"

Against her will, tears pricked behind her eyes. Her throat felt even tighter, even though his fingers had loosened slightly.

"_No,_" she gasped. "I haven't—_hhlk—_seen Thor—in a year."

Loki tipped his head a fraction of an inch. "Left you again, has he?"

Jane glared at him while her face turned blue.

"Interesting," Loki breathed, dipping his chin closer until his nose almost brushed hers. "You truly don't remember, do you?"

_Move, Jane, _her instincts screamed at her. _Fight back!_

So she did the only thing she could think of. Sliding her hands up his arms, she wrapped her fingers around his neck, digging in with all her strength. His eyes widened in surprise, but he responded by pressing harder. A strangled cough slipped up her throat, her back flush against the wall. But she held on tight. A muscle jerked in his cheek. His blue eyes didn't waver from her face, but they thinned, his ivory skin turning a shade darker with each passing second.

He was going to snap her neck. Dangerous popping sounds reverberated through her bones, every vertebrae shrieking at the pressure. His thumbs dug into the hollow beneath her jugular, merciless and sharp.

Her vision began to swirl. If it came down to a competition of stamina, she was on the losing end. Loki's face blurred, swimming into a distorted, frightening visage. She could feel her eyes slipping closed.

Then, to her disbelief, the iron chokehold slackened. His fingers slid away one by one, but the weight of his hands remained circled around the base of her neck. She dragged in a splintering lungful of air, feeling the oxygen rush back to her brain. Her throat clenched and unclenched in a series of coughs, and she tipped her head back, letting the spasms rock her.

Finally, slowly, she opened her eyes.

He still towered over her, but his head had tipped forward until his forehead almost touched hers. The once mocking blue eyes had narrowed to slits, his lips open though no breath could escape. She realized her fingers were still around _his _neck, squeezing as hard as they could. His eyes ticked between hers, a silent challenge behind them.

Horror shot through her. She jerked her hands back from his neck, the breath shuddering in her chest at what she'd almost done. There was so little space between them that her hands ended up landing on his chest.

Loki's breath whistled when he sucked in a gasp, a low cough rasping up his throat. He kept his eyes fixed on hers, pupils blown so wide they looked almost black. Astonishment and a glimmer of something else flickered behind the inky depths.

For a full minute, neither of them moved. Only their uneven gasps broke the silence, tickling over the other's face, as they regained breath. Jane didn't dare break eye contact. She could feel his hands still resting on either side of her face, thumbs brushing the curve of her jaw.

"Who'd have known."

His voice came out ragged, hoarse and raw. Something glittered in his eyes as he brushed his fingertips along the back of her neck. Her spine prickled at the touch.

"Thor's meek little stargazer contains more than meets the eye. Well done, Jane Foster."

His hands slid away from her neck, and he stepped back from her. Jane's heart gave a stutter of relief. For a moment, he stood measuring her with dark eyes, before he strode past her to the door.

"Now. Until we get down to business. This mortal form requires sustenance. I don't suppose you have any food in this decrepit little shack?"

The door opened, and closed. Jane heard his footsteps striding throughout her house. She stood on trembling knees for a moment, and then sank down the wall. She could only breathe a prayer of thanks that Darcy wouldn't be home from work for another four hours.

She had four hours to get this awful mess sorted. How on earth had she been so stupid?

Doubling over, Jane coughed until she thought she was going to be sick. Then she pushed herself to her feet, wiped her eyes, and sucked in a deep breath.

Turning, she walked to the door with a soldier's careful tread. She turned the knob and stepped forward to do battle.


	5. With Both Hands

**I'm loving the reviews, you beautiful people. Many thanks to QQuina, PureSummerMagic, vampgirliegirl, Arianne1, Luc16, Belladonna118, NightWhisper184, Dark Fray, katielove82, Madalena, weekaa1313, tezzerax, isaalacrymosaa, PeasAndCheese, mfaerie32, Llockhart05, and every other lovely reviewer out there who so kindly left a comment! You guys inspire me to keep this going. I don't know what I'd do without you.**

* * *

_"The son of giants _

_Walks across the sky _

_To the gods a friend _

_Fathered beast and men _

…

_He lives between the worlds _

_The world of gods and men"_

—_Loki God of Fire, Manowar_

* * *

Jane felt like a matador approaching a raging bull. Only she had no cape. Or sword. Or anything to fight off this mercurial monster if he decided to charge.

She knew Loki heard her approach. But he didn't turn around from his position behind her kitchen counter, nor did he stiffen when her slow, careful tread pulled to a stop just behind him. Jane swallowed.

"How are you alive?"

Loki continued to raid her cabinets, pulling down boxes of food and setting them on the counter. She hadn't the heart to tell him that was all she had to eat until pay day next Saturday. He lifted one shoulder.

"You asked me to be."

Jane stared at the lean lines of his back, a frown furrowing her brow.

"What?"

" Do you not remember? Such desperate pleas on Svartalheim. You begged the same thing of me that you asked your dearest Thor upon your first meeting."

He turned, slowly, ice blue eyes raking over her face, searching for the hint of a reaction.

"_Do me a favor," _he repeated. "_And don't be dead."_

Jane licked her lips, swallowing hard.

"You heard me," she whispered. "But you… you were dead."

"Death is a relative term," came the blasé reply. "By all mortal standards, I _had _passed on into the nether realm. However, illusion does beautiful things to the untrained eye."

"I watched you!" Jane blustered. "That spear went straight through your chest. You turned gray, right in front of me."

"How long do you think I have lived with Thor? One cannot withstand a thousand years at that oaf's side without honing the skills of a fine actor."

Jane felt something hollow and cold open up inside her.

"So it was all an act," she whispered. "You destroyed your brother, cut him to pieces, all to fool him into thinking you were dead?"

Something flickered across Loki's face, the slightest blip in his otherwise impeccable ivory mask.

"Of course. God of lies, remember?"

Jane stared at him while he returned to pillaging her food supply. Her throat tightened.

"You're despicable."

His shoulders tensed, but he did not turn around this time.

"I never pretended to be anything else."

She turned and strode around the kitchen island to stand a few feet away from him, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to look intimidating. The corner of his mouth quirked at her fruitless endeavor.

"Why are you here?" she demanded.

"Sanctuary," he replied in a flippant tone.

"Sanctuary?"

"Yes. I assume you mortals can grasp the concept. A traveler comes to the cleft of a rock, seeking shelter from the elements. The harshness of the outside world will drive even the sleekest hunter to his base survival instincts."

Jane struggled to keep up with the wave of words.

"So you're here because…"

Loki finished pouring himself a bowl of cereal. She didn't even ask how he knew what the little wheat flakes were.

"You're my cleft in the rock."

She felt her frown deepening.

"Does Thor know you're alive?"

He moved past her to the refrigerator, neatly scooting her aside by the shoulder so he could open the door. Lifting out her only carton of milk, he helped himself.

"He is the reason I'm here."

"I don't understand."

Suddenly her back hit the refrigerator door, and ice blue eyes hovered inches from her own. Her breath caught.

"A year and half has passed, yes?"

Cool breath trickled over her face. Jane fought to conceal the tremor racing down her spine.

"Do you wonder why he has not come for you in all this time?"

Jane swallowed, hard. "He will."

"Is that why you've moved on to your little East Coast friend? What was his name? Ronald? Russell?"

"Richard," Jane whispered.

"You prove my point."

"That's beside the point!" she protested. "No matter how much time's passed, you've no right to show up on my doorstep."

"Ah, but I've every right. Despite the passage of time—merely a blink in our immortal years—the fact my brother has sent me here demonstrates one thing: you, a mere mortal, have somehow earned his trust. Which doesn't speak for much for his intelligence."

"Thor sent you here?"

He drew back from her. "Your dear oafish lover uncovered a deception in a burst of uncharacteristic cunning. Asgard has descended into a state of upheaval. While he would like nothing more than to throw me to my old dungeon masters, present events have it so Thor cannot trust his own guards. I hold the answer to a question he fears will fall into the hands of his enemies. As I would never give up such delicious leverage for his sake, he was faced with the option of killing me or sparing me in hopes that my secret could be extracted with time."

"What secret?"

He smiled, a quicksilver flash across his face. "Oh, Jane. I see the fool heart of curiosity that drew Thor to you. You think I would reveal my hand to _you? _You, who are nothing short of a jailer in this pathetic Midgardian prison wherein I've found myself. My, I can already see how amusing this incarceration shall be."

"I'm your jailer?" Jane kept her back pressed up against the fridge, to keep as much distance between them as possible. She didn't want a repeat of that morning. "But I don't want you here. I want you to leave. That's not very jailer-like of me."

His smile was thin. "An unwilling jailer is still a jailer when her prisoner is bound to her."

"You're bound to me?"

"Indeed. I am tethered to your presence like a dog on a leash. Quite humiliating, as I'm sure was Thor's intention."

Jane felt her face contorting as that piece of information sank in. "But I have to go to work! I can't drag you along with me. Your face has been plastered all over the news for the last year and a half! Everyone will recognize you, and then I'll be…"

She didn't know what she would be. She'd already gotten in over her head with S.H.I.E.L.D. the last time a god dropped into her life. Somehow she didn't think the secret superhero organization would be quite so understanding the second time around.

But there was still one option left open to her. She could turn him in. Handing Loki over on a silver platter would do more than enough to clear her name of any association with him. Her work would be safe, and she wouldn't have to worry about her research being confiscated, or worse—getting painted as a traitor, an accomplice to a terrorist, harboring a fugitive…

Something twisted in her gut at the notion. She couldn't betray Thor. He'd entrusted her with his brother, for reasons she couldn't begin to understand, and as much as she hated him for it, she couldn't bring herself to sever that bond. His trust was all she had left of him. In a way, Loki was her last link to Thor. Perhaps if she did this his way, he would come back to her. He would explain, the years apart would be made up for, that gaping hole in her chest filled in with something warm, something that beat and breathed and lived…

Loki was still looking at her. A spark of something she couldn't define flickered behind his blue eyes.

"How far does the tether go?" she finally asked. "Is it a physical distance, like a mile? Do I have to tow you across the city to buy groceries?"

"I cannot leave your presence for more than a few moments, at longest. I'm afraid I am ensconced in your household for as long as you reside here."

"So I can't leave, without you following me?"

"Your intelligence is astounding."

He moved away from her and crossed the kitchen back to the bowl of cereal he'd poured. No doubt after their conversation it had turned soggy. Jane struggled to get her brain to work while she watched him root around for a spoon in her many drawers beneath the counter. She stared, unmoving from her dazed spot by the refrigerator, while he lifted a bite to his lips.

"Interesting," he observed, drawing the spoon back and examining it with a mix of revulsion and wonder on his face. "Drowned in sugar, yet it compels me to take another bite."

She didn't know whether to be amused or horrified to watch Loki determining the virtues of breakfast cereal.

Finally, Jane asked the question burning most at the forefront of her mind.

"How long did Thor say your exile was going to be?"

Loki downed the rest of the cereal in one slow pull, then wiped his mouth and turned to look at her with a broad smirk.

"Until one of us dies, of course."

* * *

Jane didn't go in to work that morning. Playing babysitter to a temperamental god had never been on her list of "Things I'll Do for my Estranged Boyfriend." But it seemed Fate was standing back to laugh at her.

Loki shifted between the snarky, mocking trickster she'd grown used to in Asgard, and a moody, restless shadow that paced the confines of her house, wearing a trail in her carpet with his boots. She didn't have the guts to ask him to take them off inside the house. His coiled energy reminded her of a caged panther. Dangerous to get too close to, but strangely fascinating at the same time. She found herself watching him out of the corner of her eye, unable to keep her eyes away from his enigmatic countenance for too long.

She moved throughout the house, as caged as he was, doing household chores she hadn't set aside time for with her long hours at the lab. She'd brought enough research home to keep her busy at her computer desk for a while, but as the sun climbed past its zenith in the sky, she found herself growing restless. She cleaned and put away all the dishes, scrubbed the countertops and bathroom sink, swept the floors and even vacuumed her room.

Yet she still ended up draped over the couch across from the god of mischief, staring up at the ceiling with racing thoughts before the clock had even hit 4:00.

"Ask."

Jane blinked at the ceiling, straightening up on the couch to look over at him. Loki stood posted by the window, staring out at the Manhattan cityscape below. Rain skidded along the windowpane in silver rivulets, glittering down from the stormy gray sky. The buildings stood like blue sentinels out on the skyline.

"Ask what?"

"The questions buzzing behind your lips are as irritating as if you were shouting them. I've nothing else to occupy by time. So ask."

Jane bit her lip. "How did you get to Earth?"

"Thor may be an imbecile when it comes to the magical arts, but Heimdall still answers to him. The Bifrost is closed to me should I attempt any way back."

"Thor stripped you of your magic?"

"He is capable of no such sorcery. He had to enlist the help of several old, dangerous friends to help him in such an endeavor."

"So you're mortal now?"

"Hardly. Think of my strength and magic temporarily on hiatus. Bound, if you may, until such time as my brother sees fit to loose the chains inhibiting my natural abilities."

"When will that be?"

He tilted his head slightly to the side, enough for her to see his signature smirk in profile. "As soon as his princely duties clear enough for him to find time to question me thoroughly."

Jane eyed him thoughtfully for a moment. For all his insouciance, something darker—almost vulnerable—flickered behind his eyes.

Before she could question him further, he turned his body more fully to face her. His head tipped to one side, contemplating her.

"You are different from the time I saw you last."

"I'm not different."

"You've changed. Grown darker, somehow. Your soul has hardened in Thor's absence. Shadowed by something that has begun to eat away at you, something you can't escape from. You are a different woman, Jane Foster."

Her mouth dried up at his words. "You don't know anything about me."

"Really? I know the Jane of old would have helplessly played the victim and let me choke the life from her, struggles and protests as futile as the hope that drove her to a god in the first place. But you fought back today. You stretched out your hands and gave me exactly what I let out to you. You refused to fade away, into the damsel in distress that you become in Thor's presence. Yes, you're different, Jane. You've become one who takes hold of her own destiny with both hands."

He took a step toward her, a frown dipping his brow.

"But you don't like this change. Instead of pining away for Thor, you would have it that you'd never met my brother in the first place. The old you would have waited for him no matter how much time trickled by. But you have given up. You are colder, shrewder than you were before. You're done playing the damsel. The maiden waiting for her red-caped prince to bear her away to his palace in the clouds. No. You have no longer that hopeful, young thing. Your soul has aged. Thor's desertion has broken you in more ways than you realize. You're alone, slowly trying to piece yourself back together…"

Jane's eyes pricked hot and sharp at his words. She pushed herself off the couch and strode away from him. A hand caught the back of her arm so swiftly that she gasped. Loki had come up behind her in fast, silent strides, spinning her around so that his face hovered above hers.

"Why have you given up on him?"

His voice burned with the glacial intensity of his eyes—a sudden, desperate need to hear her answer.

Jane swallowed hard. "I haven't given up."

"Lying to the God of Lies?" His mouth tipped. "I took you for intelligent."

Against her will, a single tear leaked out of her eyes, cutting a warm path down her cheek. Loki's eyes followed it, narrowing the slightest fraction.

"I can't do this anymore," Jane whispered. Her chest constricted, pressing inward on her heart, but she forced the words out. She needed to get them out.

"I can't keep waiting for him. I'm worth more than this. I love Thor, and I always will. But we're different. I used to pretend we could overcome this gap between us, but it's grown into a chasm. A great, black hole I can't cross. I don't think he's neglecting me on purpose… but I'm coming to grips with the fact that he's needed somewhere else. He doesn't belong down here." Her throat almost closed on the words. They slipped like a whisper past her lips, hollow and broken. "He doesn't belong with me."

Loki let her go, but his eyes didn't drop from her face. The raw intensity she saw there felt like razors on an open wound. Jane tore her gaze away from him and moved to flee toward her bedroom, swallowing a choking sob in her retreat.

Loki stared after her long after the door had shut. Long enough for the silence to stretch like a barrier between the two of them, thicker than any wall or door. His eyes fastened on the place where she'd stood, moments before. The words that fell from his lips were pitched low and soft, carefully hidden from any prying ears.

"He doesn't deserve you, Jane."

* * *

_Drop a review. :-)_


	6. Where it is Not Deserved

You're falling farther than

I've ever seen you fall before

For me to wonder when

I'll recognize you anymore

…

To see no light inside your eyes at all

To bang my head against the wall

And force myself to watch you pull away

…

Is there a way inside?

You only hide from enemies

'Cause I'll wait

I'm afraid you won't get rid of me so easily

—Once, Caleb Kane

* * *

Thor looked out over the glittering gold metropolis, his eyes trailing over the yawning expanse of sea. The still silver waves reflected the stars, ablaze with color and light and churning, scintillating galaxies.

But despite the beauty of the ethereal world before him, Thor's mouth was turned down into a grim line. His eyes followed the eerie trails of smoke curling up in to the atmosphere.

Asgard was burning.

Instead of looking out from his rightful place in Odin's palace, Thor looked out across his beloved city from a shadowy hideaway. Shame and shadows, that seemed to be his lot now. Every muscle and sinew in his body screamed for him to fight, to go down with honor and glory. This was his home. How dare they march into his world and wrench it from him, with their gleaming black ships and fiery footsteps and flashing blades.

But alas, he was crown prince. As much as he was a warrior, his people needed him alive. He was the last of the royal family. The only replacement for Odin should he really… truly be…

He would not allow himself to think it. He'd allowed no one to speak the words aloud, but he couldn't stop the grim truth that haunted every face. Lady Sif and the Warriors Three had survived the initial onslaught, fighting valiantly to contain the palace when the outer kingdom was taken. But it had finally been Thor's word to drive them to retreat. Hogun had come close to death, half his face and arm burned away in a scuffle that took both Volstagg and Fandral to drag his smoking body away.

Now he lay silent and unmoving on a thin straw-stuffed mattress in the corner of their tiny hideout. He could not be moved, and he was not the only one injured. Sif nursed a blackened burn across the bicep of her sword-arm, and Volstagg suffered from severe burns all across his shoulders and torso, his once impressive beard half singed away. The few Aesir guards who had managed to escape the palace alongside them were no better off. Some sported broken arms or legs, deep third degree burns, or sword wounds. Not one had gotten away unscathed. But they weren't the worst of it.

Fandral had lost an eye.

No one was whole anymore. In body, or soul. Something burned in the core of each of them as they watched their beloved Asgard simmer to the ground. Only the palace stood tall, a hollow mockery of its former glory, a barren shell containing nothing more than death and fire. Smoke roiled up into the hills, blanketing the city and climbing up over the clouds, blotting out the stars.

In all his thousands of years, Thor had never felt such a yawning emptiness within himself. He wondered, vaguely, if this was what the Midgardians had felt when they watched his brother burn half their grand central city to the ground.

"Thor."

Someone put a hand on his arm, and he didn't have to turn to look to know the touch. Soft, yet strong, callused yet feminine. He swallowed hard when Sif squeezed his wrist, sliding her hand over his.

"We will take it back," she said firmly. "Asgard has fallen to war before. We have always risen again, stronger than ever before."

"It's never been like this," Thor said in a flat voice.

Sif's hand tensed over his. Slowly, she removed it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her form move into his view, turning to rest her forearms against the wooden railing and looking out over the city. Her raven black hair flickered in the wind, brushing his shoulder.

The mountains and farmlands rose up around Asgard's central conurbation, a stark contrast of wild, tumbling green and misty blue against polished gold and sharp, glittering edges. The main cityscape had been razed to the ground, a tangled wreck of smoking ruins. But the surrounding countryside remained virtually untouched. The besiegers had come from the sky, zeroing in on their prime target. They hadn't thought to seal off the escape routes to the wilderness. The Aesir were famed fighters, after all. Who would run when there was glory to be gained in death, defending their ancestral home?

Thor's fists tightened on the edge of the wooden fence. A farmhouse, abandoned and falling apart, became the sanctuary of a prince. The Warriors Three had to scavenge for game in the surrounding forests and hills, as any cattle and stock had fled during the initial invasion. Fire had spread down the southern hills, but this northern land lay nestled safely behind the bay. The invaders wouldn't risk crossing the water when they already had their prized capitol secured.

Now, the sun shot fingers of dazzling gold stretching across the land, painting the smoke on the horizon in deepest scarlet. The color of the blood that ran through the halls of his home. His throat tigthened.

"I should have stood and fought," Thor growled into the fading dusk. "If we'd only held out a little longer, perhaps…"

Sif let his voice crack and fall away. The wind hummed between them, a low mournful whistle through the long grasses, before she finally spoke.

"There is nothing you could have done, Thor," she whispered. "We were outnumbered. We would have lost more men had you not made the wise decision to withdraw. Hogun owes you his life. Fandral, Volstagg… _I _owe you my life. I would have fought with you to the death. But now we are alive to fight another day."

"As if we would stand a chance," Thor scoffed. "Now that they have taken full control."

"Do not say such things. You are the son of Odin, the greatest warrior and King ever to cross these realms."

"And Odin is gone."

Sif hesitated. "Only for now. There is one who knows his location…"

Thor laughed. Sif flinched back, and he knew why. Such a harsh sound did not belong on his lips; it sounded almost like those of a much younger, much darker, brother.

"Loki will never give up this secret. He would see Asgard ripped asunder before he so much as lifted a finger to help his own kin. If not by blood, by time alone, he _is_ family_. _Yet he has betrayed us."

"Yet you would hide your brother away from _him_."

Sif didn't need to say the name. No one did, any longer. Such a heinous utterance felt like profanity beneath Asgard's wounded sky, gaping red and raw in the smoke.

Thor dropped his head, a ragged breath betraying his callous manner.

"I cannot give him over to them," he whispered.

"You are worried he would reveal Odin's location to our enemy."

"No. No pain would prize such valuable leverage from him. Whether or not he would help us, I will not see him tortured and flayed for the pleasure of such a beast. He is my brother."

Sif sighed. "Your loyalty continues to stand where it is not deserved."

"My father kept his faith in me when I least deserved it. My mother remained loyal even though my actions had nearly cost this realm its peace. I cannot afford my brother any less."

"Even if he does not afford you the same loyalty?"

"Especially when he does not," Thor confirmed with a grim smile. "He has nothing left. No one to stand by him. If I were to give up on him, he would be alone in the nine realms. No one—not even Loki—deserves a fate so bleak."

Sif's dark brows drew together in a frown, but she said nothing. The two of them looked out over the desolation before them for a long moment, until the sun finished sinking behind the hills. Then, she touched a hand to his arm.

"We should return to the others," she said. "They look to you to lead them. We must form up a plan."

Thor let her draw him back away from the fence.

"Aye. Even when a leader is no more than a glorified fugitive, they still look to him for guidance. I do not deserve their faith."

"But we give it to you anyway." Sif clapped his shoulder blade, her low laugh echoing his earlier words. "_Especially _when you do not."

* * *

"And God gave alcohol to mankind, as recompense for all the crap they have to put up with every day on this miserable mud ball."

Darcy kicked her feet over the end of the sofa, took a swig straight from the bottle of the Cabernet Sauvignon, and tipped her head back with a gusty sigh.

"And God said that it was good."

Jane approached the foot of the sofa and stopped a few inches from Darcy's still booted feet. Her roommate's eyes had closed, one had tossed back over her forehead.

"Rough day at work?"

"The roughest," Darcy grumbled, taking another drag from the bottle. She spilled a little over her cheek and scarf, but didn't seem to care.

"We were supposed to be saving that for Thanksgiving," Jane said weakly.

Darcy shifted her forearm to look straight at her. Then she upended the bottle over her mouth and took three huge swallows.

"I suppose it is still two months away," Jane offered.

"It's eight o'clock," Darcy said to the ceiling.

"Yes?"

"Shouldn't you still be at work? You're never home this early."

Jane's stomach clenched. "Ah… yes, about that. There's something I needed to tell—"

"_This _is the mortal creature who subdued my brother with her infamous taser? I expected to be more impressed."

Darcy shrieked, the wine bottle flying out of her hand and dumping its scarlet contents all over the carpet. She skidded back against the armrest of the couch, eyes wide as saucers.

"He's _awake!" _

Her scream made both Loki and Jane wince.

"Jane! _Jane! _Where's my taser?"

Loki twiddled something in his fingers, frowning down at the squatty metal device, barely the width of his palm.

"Such a small weapon. How does one wield it?"

Darcy squeaked. "Give that back!"

"I believe I am the one armed; I shall not listen to any demands."

Jane took a step toward him, sensing a conflict. "Loki—"

But Darcy was already on it. One moment the Asgardian prince's eyes widened; the next moment a pillow collided with his face. Loki stumbled back, more from surprise than real impact, and the taser dropped to the carpet. Darcy lunged for it.

Jane was faster. Dropping to a roll, she swept over the little weapon and scooped it up in one fist, Darcy's fingers clawing the ends of her hair. Jane skidded to a stop across the living room, breathing hard and staring between two pairs of stunned eyes.

"Stop it," Jane gasped. "Both of you. Loki, if you're going to stay here, you can't antagonize my roommate."

"_Stay _here?"

"If," Jane emphasized. "I still have to figure this whole tether thing out."

"Tether? What tether? Jane!"

"I cannot venture beyond your dear compeer's whereabouts," Loki answered before Jane could. "My brother thought it humorous to fix me like a dog on a leash to the his own pet mortal."

The disgust in his voice testified to the truth of the liesmith's words. Darcy's mouth opened and closed, her throat working as she fumbled for words.

"But… you're _here._ On Earth. If Thor wanted to lock you up somewhere, why couldn't he just stick you in some dungeon on Asgard? Why dump you on us?"

"Asgard is indisposed at the moment," Loki replied sharply. "And as for this 'dumping' of me…"

"Indisposed?" Jane repeated in a hollow voice. "What happened? Is Thor okay?"

Loki shot her a derisive scowl. "Your precious Thor is hale and whole. This binding spell is dependent upon his well being. If he were to face grievous injury, the tether would be undone."

Jane blew out a quick sigh of relief. It eased a little of the weight off her chest. But she still felt like a train had parked itself on top of her.

"Loki," she said, striving for calm. "How long did Thor say he needed you to stay with me?"

Loki regarded her with narrowed blue eyes. "He did not say."

Darcy buried her face in the couch cushions.

"God, do you hate me?" she moaned.

"I most certainly don't hold a very high opinion of you."

Darcy lifted her head just enough to glare at Loki. "I wasn't talking to _you."_

"But I am the only one in this room fitting that description—"

"Ugh, I can't do this anymore." She rolled off the couch, scooped up the half-empty wine bottle, and limped off in the direction of her bedroom.

"Jane, _fix _it."

Darcy escaped into her room, slamming the door behind her. In instant later, the lock clicked shut with a snap.

Jane stared after her for a moment, oscillating between pursuing her or beating a hasty retreat to her own room. Finally, she turned to look at the cause of his whole mess. He stood staring at her, all green and black and leather and wide, innocent blue eyes.

"Have I said something?"

Jane pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, forcing herself to take three slow, deep breaths.

"Loki, I can't stay here with you all day again. I have to go to work."

"Then I shall accompany you."

Something between a strangled hiccup and a laugh stuck in her throat. She could just imagine how that would play out with her coworkers.

"Not an option," she replied.

"Then you shall not be going in to work."

"Loki, if I don't work, I don't eat! And since you're staying here, by extension that means _you _don't eat. I don't know how long you Asgardians can go without food, but if you said your special strength or whatever it is is gone, I'm guessing it's not much longer than me and Darcy."

"Hm," Loki considered her reasoning. "It appears we are at an impasse."

Jane almost moaned in frustration, when an idea suddenly flickered into existence. Lowering her hands, she fisted them in the hem of her shirt instead.

"How far does this tether… thing… extend?"

Loki frowned, as if not anticipating the question.

"I am not entirely sure. I haven't tested it."

"My work is only two blocks from here."

He regarded her silently for a moment. She leapt at her slim chance.

"Look, obviously you don't need to be _right beside _me at all times, otherwise you wouldn't have been able to leave me in the bedroom to walk into the kitchen. All day we've been on opposite ends of the house from each other. That's a distance of, what, thirty feet? What's another couple hundred feet or so?"

Loki frowned eased into something a little more contemplative.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to test the theory."

"There's a Marshall's on the corner. It's about two blocks away. If you're going to be here for while, you're going to have to blend in. Which means looking a little more normal."

"Normal?" Loki's eyebrows lifted. "Do I not look normal enough for Midgardian standards?"

"Not in the slightest."

Forgetting herself, Jane took a few steps to close the distance between them, reaching out a hand to tug on the gold-rimmed lapel of his leather armor. He stared down at her with a mix of startled bewilderment.

"You'll have to lose the cape. And the boots. And all that leather." Jane gave him a once-over, from toes to collar. "Unfortunately for you, you're not the same size as my ex. Donald's clothes suited Thor just fine, but you'd be swimming in them. Not to mention way too tall."

She reached across the couch armrest to snatch up Darcy's phone, which her friend had foolishly abandoned. Grabbing hold of Loki's slackened hand, she pressed the cell into his palm and wrapped his fingers around it.

"I'm going to go, and if you're going to stay here. Don't go outside, you hear? There's enough people on this street who watch the news for you to be recognized. The last thing I need is S.H.I.E.L.D. to come banging down my door. If you feel the slightest tug on that tether, give me a call with this. I'm number two on the dial. Okay?" She drew in a deep breath. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

She made to turn for the door, but a sudden pressure on her hand caught her where she stood. She turned back to Loki, and stopped breathing when she saw how close his face suddenly was to hers. Blue eyes burned into brown with an intensity that stole her breath.

"You could be fighting this," Loki breathed. "You could curse Thor's audacity and cast me out onto the street. You could resist with tooth and nail and make this as miserable for me as it must be for you. Yet you deign to help me. An alien, who would have seen your world on its knees not two years before this."

His eyes skimmed over her face. "Why?"

Jane swallowed. She tried to pull her hand back, but it remained trapped in an iron grip against his chest.

"I… don't know. This has fallen into my lap, and I have to do what I can with it. I trust Thor. I'm mad at him, yes, but… I still trust him. If he needs me, I'll help him in any way I can. There is a space vital for me to fill, and I'm not going to back down from it. I'll get the answers I need when the time comes."

This time, when she tried to break away, Loki let her. She nearly stumbled over her feet in her haste to get to the door, but once her hand found the knob, she paused. Turned, and looked back over her shoulder.

"Don't… destroy my house while I'm gone," she whispered. "Or my roommate. _Please."_

And, feeling like the most ridiculous trusting idiot in the world, Jane opened the door and stepped out into the freezing September night.

For a long time after the door had closed, a most disorientated god of mischief stood staring after her.

* * *

_**And there's your lot. Do tell me what you think. Is it moving too slowly for you? Just right? **_

_**Feedback is gold...**_


	7. No Light

_No light no light_

_In your bright blue eyes_

_I never knew daylight could be so violent_

_A revelation in the light of day_

_You can't choose what stays and what fades away_

…

— _Florence and the Machine —_

* * *

Jane cursed under her breath over the manual pump up, her biceps burning, and wished for the hundredth time she'd thought to buy an automatic inflator_. _The cheap rubber mattress she'd managed to find at Marshall's swelled under her tired hands. Finally, the little inflating device became so hard to pump Jane tossed it aside and unclipped the hose. A gust of air rushed out before she smashed on the cap.

Sighing, she ran a forearm across her brow and gave the mattress an experimental poke. It felt firm enough under her finger. No telling whether or not it would deflate by the early hours of morning. Still, it was better than Loki trying to fold his lean frame onto the couch.

And she _really _wanted her own room back.

Standing up, Jane rolled out her sore shoulders and scooped up the inflator and hose. She turned to the hallway to stash it away in one of the cupboards, when she stopped dead in her tracks.

Loki emerged from the bathroom, rubbing a towel over the still-damp ends of his long hair. If it was possible for this situation to be any more complicated, it now was.

Because Loki—supervillain, megalomaniacal, supercilious Loki—looked like an Adonis in Levi's.

She'd had to take her best guess at his size, so she'd gone with looser just to be safe. A few sweaters and button-down long sleeves; a couple pairs of jeans, socks and the like. But now she felt a rush of self-satisfaction at her success.

The dark green button-up fit snugly around his lean frame, the first several buttons on the top left undone, exposing an ivory throat and hint of collarbone beneath. He'd let the shirt fall untucked over dark blue jeans that sat low on his hips. Finally, a dark gray leather jacket capped it all—the only thing of Donald's that had fit him. Fit him a little _too _perfectly, judging by the sudden heat that crawled up the back of Jane's neck.

He halted at the end of the hallway, rolled up the towel in his hands, and slapped it over his shoulder. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and for one horrible second, she thought he was going to say something snide and mortifying about her gawking.

"What infernal contraption is that? Some sort of weapon?"

Jane blinked. She looked down at her hands.

"Oh—"

_Goodness, was she actually blushing? _

"—that's just a pump."

"A pump? To draw water?"

A laugh chuffed its way up her throat. "Um, no. To inflate a bed."

"Inflate? As in… with air?"

"Yeah. See for yourself."

Jane turned and glanced over her shoulder into the living room. The air mattress sat pushed up against the far wall, behind the couch, to give as much semblance of privacy as possible. Jane had decked it out in all the spare sheets and blankets she had, with two flattened pillows at the head. Everything was old and probably thin, and the pillows needed fluffing, but at least it was all clean. It was more than she could say for most of the hotels on this side of the street.

Loki strode past her to investigate, and she caught a whiff of soap and peppermint. Two scents she wouldn't associate with the trickster of the Nine Realms.

Her breath skittered away… but that was definitely due to the weariness of the day, the exhaustion after pumping up the air mattress, and the overall fatigue of the past twenty-four hour's events.

Loki frowned down at the mattress on the ground.

"Am I supposed to sleep on this?"

A bitter feeling swept through her. He could fix his tone, she thought. She'd not only just spent money on every article of clothing he wore, but she was offering him her _home. _

Not that she had much choice in the matter.

Still, the least he could do was be grateful.

"Yes, you're sleeping on that," she said in a controlled voice. "You're too tall for the couch and I'd like my own bed back. You're welcome."

Loki stretched out a socked foot and tested the spring of the mattress. "Will it not rupture in the night?"

"The worst it could do is sink down slowly until you find yourself on the floor. Which is where you'll be if you decide not to sleep on it. So take your pick."

At her tone, Loki turned back to her with that raised brow. Then a thin smile tipped his mouth.

"Warm hospitality wearing thin, little mortal?"

Jane marched forward and jammed the pump into his hands. He caught it with a startled blink.

"If it starts deflating, just attach that hose to the knob on the side. Pump the handle yourself. Just _don't _wake me up."

With that, she turned on her heel and strode to her room, not giving herself a chance to look back and see whether that was a smirk or a scowl she felt on the back of her head.

* * *

The ceiling should have been painted some other color than white. It should have been inlaid with some form of texture, not such boring, monotonous plains of rolling flatness. Pale streetlight streaked between the blinds, skimming over the charcoal shadows on the ceiling in a kaleidoscope of patterns. Blues and grays and every inky color in between, fading in and out of one another.

Jane lost track of time of how long she stared at the ceiling.

She lost track of how many times she'd rolled over, punched her pillow, twisted up in her sheets, and yanked the blankets up over her ears.

…

_"See that star, Jane? "_

_"Where, Daddy?"_

_"Follow my finger. The one with the square, and the three points."_

_"That one there?"_

_"Yeah. Guess which one this is. They say he looked like a horse with huge, feathery white wings. He helped a hero save a lovely princess from a terrible sea monster. The stories say Zeus put him up in the sky to honor his heroic fighting in battle."_

…

Jane pressed her hands over her ears, digging her teeth into the pillow.

Stupid to think that, after twenty-three years, she could drown out the memories.

…

_"I know! I know! It's Pegasus."_

_"Right you are, my little astronomer." _

_Little Jane giggled when the huge hand ruffled her hair, clinging tight to her father's waist. _

_"Another one," she pleaded._

_"See those twin lines there? Two great fighters, who look like they're holding hands. They were brothers, inseparable, famous warriors. Each one was brave and strong in battle, but when they fought _together… _they were undefeatable."_

_Jane tapped her fingers against her chin. "Hmm. That's hard."_

_"You know 'em. Think really hard."_

_Jane squinted up at the sky. The stars in question glimmered brightly down at her, winking and twinkling as they waited for the answer. Then a huge grin spread across her face._

_"Castor and Pollus!" she crowed triumphantly._

_Two big strong arms latched round her waist and heaved her high, right up onto a pair of broad shoulders. Jane squealed happily and grabbed onto her father's forehead for balance._

_"Want to hear something neat?" _

_Jane folded her elbows on her father's head and dropped her chin to rest atop his messy brown hair. _

_"Yeah."_

_"In the time the mythologies were written," he began, his voice deep and melodic. "The ancient peoples of the near east used to think this big black sky up above held a thousand secrets. Stories, maps, great beings. But the most beautiful mystery of all were these millions of stars. Back then, each of those lights up there were holes in the floor of Heaven. The stars we see gave us a peek of the brilliance in the Great Beyond."_

_Jane stared up at the great soft band of the Milky Way above. New Mexico's clear desert sky hung vast and clear, free of any pollution from city lights and suburbia. The stars looked so bright, so close, she felt she could almost reach up and tickle her fingers through the millions of tiny lights. She wondered if she could scatter them like fireflies. _

_So many of them, small ones, big ones, bright ones, dim ones. Blues, whites, emeralds, silvers. It looked as if the whole lot of them had been tossed up there by a giant hand. Jane stretched her mind and tried to imagine. Each and every one of those faraway stars, pinpricks in the floor of heaven. It looked so glorious that, for a moment, she wondered if a shadow might pass over the stars as God walked by overhead. _

_"Do you think Mama's up there?" _

_She felt her father still beneath her. His hands tightened, ever so faintly, on her ankles. _

_"She sure is, Jane," he whispered. "Your Mama's up there listening to God tell his stories about the universe. She's hearing every secret that's ever been made. Finally getting all her questions answered."_

_"Just like she always wanted," Jane said with a smile. "I'm going to be just like Mama, Daddy. I'm going to study the stars, and I'm gonna change the world someday."_

_Between her knees, she could feel her father swallow. His grip on her feet squeezed, warm and solid. _

_"That you are, honey," he murmured. _

_For a long, quiet moment the two of them stood in the cool summer air, staring up at the scattered constellations above them. _

_The soft wind picking up over the sand almost drowned out her father's next whispered breath._

_"That you are."_

…

Jane closed her eyes, tight and hard against the burn.

She hadn't returned to those memories in… years.

With a low sigh, she rolled herself out of bed. The floor felt cold against her bare feet, and a shiver skittered up through her bones. Gathering her blanket up off her bed, she wrapped it around her shoulders and reached for the binoculars she always kept on her bedside table for nights such as this. Then, moving slowly and quietly so as not to wake the other two occupants of her apartment, she crept out the door.

The kitchen lay in her path to the outside stairwell. She glanced at the microwave clock. The glowing green letters read 3:49. Jane rolled her eyes and headed for the back door. At least she'd gotten a few hours tonight.

Of all the other residents in her eight-apartment duplex, Jane was the only one who ever took advantage of the open roof. In fact, she'd rearranged all the plastic furniture to suit her taste. Tonight, amazingly, broke clear and cold, even though the day had been overcast. As she climbed the metal steps to the edge of the roof, Jane let her eyes trail appreciatively over the spangled sky. Stars glittered across the inky expanse, blue and green and white and silver. There was too much pollution in Manhattan for her to see any of the cloudy Milky Way, but she felt the gentle ache of contentment at just being able to see the heavens.

She mounted the last step and headed for her customary chair, by the edge of the cement railing, drawing her blanket closer around herself when her breath puffed on the wintry air.

Then her breath caught in her throat, her feet freezing to the ground.

She saw the boots first. Black, gleaming, propped up on the edge of the fence, long legs crossed leisurely. Lanky elbows bent above his shoulders, hands locked behind shiny black hair. He was so still, Jane wondered if he were asleep. If she should be so lucky. Holding her breath, she turned as carefully as she could, and headed back for the stairwell.

"Don't let my presence drive you away. Sit."

Jane stopped short, her back tensing. She turned to look back at him. He hadn't turned around, nor moved a muscle, but she just now caught sight of the second chair pulled up close alongside him. A chair she hadn't moved.

Swallowing, she realized she was caught. She may as well do what she came for. Clutching the binoculars a little too tight between her fingers, she shuffled forward to the chair and settled into it. She could feel his gaze on the side of her face.

Several beats of silence fell between them.

"Looks like I wasn't the only one with trouble sleeping," she managed to say.

He said nothing to that.

"The air mattress… too uncomfortable, was it?"

He sighed. "No."

He didn't elaborate.

Fidgeting with the hem of her blanket, Jane finally forced herself to block out the stiff image of him sitting next to her. She adjusted her binoculars and looped the leather cord around her neck, settling back against the chair and lifting them to her eyes. Swimming spirals of stars filled her vision. With the pad of her thumb, she amended the focus, and drew her sights up to the brightest spot in the atmosphere. Sirius, the North Star.

After a few minutes, she'd forgotten her unwelcome company and a small smile tipped her mouth.

"What are you doing?"

She jumped, and the cold rim of the binoculars bit into the bone beneath her eyes. She bit back an angry word, and turned to see Loki's blue eyes gleaming in the starlight.

"Stargazing," she answered.

One perfectly sculpted eyebrow lifted. "Your work studying the stars drives you to a restless night, so you rise again to study the stars?"

"I'm not studying the stars," she protested. "Right now I'm just admiring them. It takes a lot less mental energy, and I can actually… enjoy them."

She put the binoculars back to her eyes. "Besides," she murmured. "It's not work that's keeping me up."

"Oh? And what keeps the ingenious Jane Foster up at so late an hour?"

_Crap. _She swallowed. "Just… My head's spinning. Things have been crazy lately. Got a lot on my mind."

"Mm. And by crazy, you mean my dramatic reentrance into your life."

She glanced sideways at him. His eyes were back on the stars, his elegant profile awash with the lights of the glowing Manhattan skyline.

"Yeah, that's part of it."

They both returned to their uncompanionable silence.

After a long moment, she heard Loki sigh.

"What are the Midgardian stories of these stars?"

Jane blinked. She lowered the binoculars. "Why do you ask?"

"I've been regaled most of my life by Asgard's tales of how they came to be. Glorious heroes and harrowing adventures, remnants of their bravery tossed up into the sky as mementos. Or apologies, a tribute to some angered power for some foolishness on the part of the Aesir. But I'm curious to hear the literature you Midgardians have come up with to explain the lights in the heavens."

She looked over at him. His light eyes remained on her face, seemingly sincere. No sign he'd turn this around on her in some mocking knife jab that send her reeling with humiliation. But then again, there never was with Loki.

Still. What was the harm in a couple mythologies about stars?

Clearing her throat, Jane shifted closer to him and held out the binoculars.

"See that star? That big, bright one up there. Looks blue. Follow my finger."

The corner of his mouth tipped upward. "I believe I can find it, Lady Foster."

A little unsettled at the unfamiliar way her name rolled off his tongue, Jane stretched an uncertain half smile at him. "Um, yeah. Well, we call that one Sirius."

"And what is the tale of this Sirius?"

"Um… well, we don't actually have a story for that one."

"No stories for the brightest star in your night sky?"

"Not for just one star, no. We have legends mostly about the star clusters and constellations. They make pictures, figures and stuff. You can't exactly make a picture with one star."

"And these… things? They help you to view the stars? Do your eyes fail you?"

Jane rolled her eyes and held the binoculars up in front of his nose. He leaned back and squinted warily at them.

"C'mon, they don't bite."

Lashes fluttered back and forth between her and the binoculars, he slowly tipped his head forward until they rested atop the bridge of his nose. His eyebrows slowly lifted.

"So they are a sort of magnifying device?"

"Basically, yeah."

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he lowered the binoculars.

"Do you know Asgard's legends swirling about that same star?"

Jane blinked. "Asgard… but you would have different stars, right?"

"Some are different, yes. But the wormholes that connect our realms let in light from billions of years away. The Bifrost arcs over all the heavens, and galaxies from across all the realms can be seen spiraling beneath our rainbow bridge."

Jane didn't realize she had leaned forward, fascinated at the description of this link between the realms. She'd perhaps been the very first human to travel to another system, and yet her curiosity for the universe still hadn't been satisfied. She longed to know more. To go further. A little embarrassed at her obvious interest, she drew back.

"What does Asgard think of Sirius?" she asked.

"We call it _Lokabrenna," _he replied, mouth tipped in a wry, humorless smile.

"'Loki's torch,'" Jane translated, with the little Norse she knew from traveling with Erik to his homeland.

He looked impressed by her knowledge.

"Indeed. Our mythologies are far darker than such a bright star deserves. In their stories, the glowing beacon represents the end of the world. Burning. From the fire that I bring."

"_Ragnarök_," Jane whispered.

"Ah, so you've brushed up on your Norse history."

"It's just a story," she said in a hollow voice.

"Why, Jane…"

He tipped his head down toward her, blue eyes gleaming bright in the dim light. Jane had to catch her breath at the darkness she saw swirling behind them.

"You don't think I'm capable of bringing this fated destruction to the realms? I am the monster who nearly brought down your own world, after all."

"You're not a monster," she blurted out without thinking.

Both eyebrows rose this time. "Am I not? After all that I have done to cause you pain. To cause pain to those you love. You fear me. Do not try to deny it."

"Yes," she admitted in a shaky breath. "But a monster isn't capable of love."

His eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned at her. "And what makes you think I'm capable of that? Such trivial sentiment is unbefitting to the destroyer of the Nine."

"I don't think, I know," she replied, holding his gaze. "From the way you reacted when your mother died."

He drew his breath sharply, and his eyes slid away from hers. For a second, his lithe frame went so tense she felt a jolt of fear that he might lash out in some unpredictable way, but he tipped his head back against the chair and released a stiff breath.

"Tell me another one of your tales."

Jane released her own breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She lifted her eyes back to the sky, still aware of the crackle of tension that now lay between their stiffened arms.

"My Dad told me once," she finally murmured. "That the ancient peoples thought those stars were holes in the floor of Heaven."

A low chuckle drifted over to her from his chair. The sound lightened the weight his earlier words had dropped over her.

"I've many doubts those dim twinkling lights would come close to the brilliance of Valhalla."

"Valhalla?" Jane repeated. "So… even the gods have a heaven."

"We are not gods, Jane."

She blinked. It was the last thing in the world she would have expected him to say.

"But, earlier. You told Darcy that you were…"

"I was being facetious. I am no more a god than you are. I am merely a higher form of being. Longer life, stronger body, more refined culture. But I live and die, just the same."

Jane frowned. "Is there any such thing as a god, then? Are all our Earth legends just reports of 'higher beings'?"

"But of course there is. Even my people of Asgard, far less superstitious than you Midgardians, know this. A far more ancient Being than even the Nine realms. There before the dawn of Time, before Odin's line ever began."

"Who is he, then?"

"You know him. His name was translated into Midgardian several millennia ago. Although in your tongue it's difficult to pronounce. No more than a handful of letters, really. Y, H, W, and H."

"Yeh…" Jane tested out the syllables. "Yah…" She gasped. "You can't be serious."

Loki only looked at her.

"Yahweh?" she whispered. "You mean…_God _God?"

A private sort of light rimmed the edges of his eyes. He returned his eyes to the sky.

"Tell me another one."

Jane's head was still swirling from this new revelation. She'd have to look into this, later. Loki, of all people, acknowledging a very real God… and one that wasn't himself. It took all of her willpower to bring her concentration back to the stars.

More than a little flustered, she blinked a few times before settling on a constellation.

"See that one up there?"

She lifted her finger, a black stain against the indigo sky.

"Looks like a stick figure, with two arms and two legs… yes, there. That's Hercules. The most famous hero in Greek mythology. Movies still get made about him today. He used to travel the world slaying monsters and battling dragons and tricking giants. He was very strong, but most of the stories sound like he was pretty full of himself."

A smirk curved the edge of Loki's mouth. "Sounds like someone we both know."

Jane shot him a glare. Thor had changed a lot from the self-absorbed, brash soldier who'd first crashed into her car in the desert. Mjolnir would never have come to him if it hadn't found him worthy of heart and mind.

Jane's throat tightened at the memory of Thor's resolute form walking slowly toward the Destroyer. Ready and willing to sacrifice himself for the people of her town.

A god, laying down his life. For her.

Her eyes suddenly drank in the stars with a new hunger, searching through the millions of stars and wondering if another pair of eyes, blue and aching, were looking back.

"He's up there somewhere," she whispered. "Isn't he?"

Loki said nothing. For a long moment, the two of them just lay there, side by side, staring up at the night sky.

"Thor wanted to keep you safe," Jane said.

Loki kept his eyes fixed on the stars. His lips remained pressed together.

"That's why he sent you here. Not to stash away whatever secret you're hiding. He could have kept you in Asgard's jail cells for that. You said your home's at war. Thor could have towed you along with him, wherever he ran off to fight, but he sent you away from the bloodshed. He cares about you, Loki."

"I suppose you think yourself clever to come to such a conclusion."

His voice was brittle, a blade sliding over ice.

"Let me enlighten you, little mortal. You are in love with an Aesir. And not just any Aesir. A creature of thunder and glory and legend and war. One day in his time would last your whole lifetime. He could blink, and you'll have gone. Your heartbeat will fade before he acquires one line of age on his face. You think he doesn't realize this? Thor may not be the brightest star in our sky, but he's far from stupid. Why do you think he's been away so long without so much as a visit? He's forgotten you already. And we wants you to do the same. You're a mayfly. A brief, bright flash of light and then nothing. A vapor on the wind. He's moved on, Jane. It's time you do the same."

She choked on the breath in her lungs. "You're wrong."

"Am I? Tell me, if Thor could summon masses of energy to send me here in wartime, could he not—throughout this whole year of peace—summon a little power to come here himself? What has kept him from you, his little mortal pet? Perhaps it's Lady Sif. She has always had eyes for him. It's about time he saw what was standing right in front of him. Beauty, strength, and several thousand years of life. Near immortality. Someone who knows him better than he knows himself, I daresay. He'll turn to her now, in your absence."

Jane squeezed her eyes shut, his every word searing through her chest. Her mouth felt like it was full of sawdust.

"Thor wouldn't…" she rasped. "He'd never…"

But a far darker light had come to Loki's eyes now. He leaned forward, his face just inches away from hers. She felt frozen; she couldn't bring herself to jerk back.

"You've seen the change in him, yourself. After our mother's death, Thor was blindsided by the full impact of mortality. He'd lost one most dear to him. And if I know the man I once called my brother, I know he'll do anything to avoid that pain again. He won't lose another. So he's distanced himself from you, in hopes that you'll forget him in time. He's done with you, Jane. You're only fooling yourself by holding out this vain hope."

The night suddenly felt so much colder. But nothing could compare to the coldness within those blue eyes, mocking, smirking, hovering so close to her own. Jane stared in horror as Loki's mouth curved. A cruel, glittering smile.

"Say goodbye."

Jane lurched back from him. A distant echo, a memory as if from a dream. Of cold black sands and dark alien skies, of two brothers on an aircraft, snarling over the fleetingness of a heartbeat.

_Say goodbye._

"No," she sobbed, scrambling back off the chair. The blanket slipped from around her shoulders, and she clutched it like a lifeline.

Wheeling, she scrambled for the stairwell.

Then she skidded to a stop, one hand trembling on the railing, just before the first stair. Slowly, she forced herself to turn. She hated herself for the stinging behind her eyes. Let him see her cry. She had no dignity to salvage from under that razor tongue.

"I was wrong," she whispered. "You're not a monster. You're something much worse. Something capable of love, yet reaches out and tears people apart anyway."

Shaking from head to foot, she fled down the steps into the unwelcome darkness below.

A long while after she'd gone, Loki kept his hands fastened tightly over the binoculars. His eyes never left the sky. But there was no light of triumph in his eyes.

There was no light in his eyes anymore at all.

* * *

_There you go. The longest chappie yet for this fic! Tell me what you think. This took me a long time and a bunch of elbow grease to crank out!_

_Review :-)_


	8. Waiting on a Promise

**A/N:**

**Even though this is late, **_**MERRY CHRISTMAS LOVELY READERS!**_

**I hope you all had a wonderful time tearing open wrapping paper and waltzing around the house in new Christmas sweaters. And eating too much, and lolling around… **

**I was pleased to have such a heated response to the last chapter! I'm not opposed to writing about controversial topics, and Jane and Loki's discussion about God prompted several PM's and discussions from readers. I'm glad, though, for the most part it was well received! **

**Coming up next: Jane keeps a ten-foot pole between herself and her volatile houseguest.**

* * *

_Are you ever coming back to me again?_

_Counting every drop of rain, drop of rain falling_

_Falling down into the hole you dug for me_

…

_Every time you come back again, back again_

_The healing ends_

_I push all of my rules aside for you_

…

_If you really love me, you would let me go_

_I'm tired of always sleeping with your ghost_

_Chasing away the things I need the most_

_If you really love me, you would let me go_

_If you love me, let me go_

…

— _Colbie Callait —_

* * *

"When you came for me, you knew I was in trouble."

The waterfront glittered beyond the balcony, a gleaming expanse of silver and gold beneath a swirling ethereal sky. Jane felt the smooth satin cloth of her gown shushing around her legs. The Asgardian fabric felt foreign and light, a beautiful gift from a queen she'd never met, to replace her ripped jeans and stained flannel shirt. She wished she could feel as at ease in the flowing gown as the Aesir women walking past. She couldn't.

"When Heimdall lost sight of you," Thor said, his deep voice carrying out across the water. "You were no longer on Earth."

Jane frowned. "How's that possible?"

Thor hesitated. "I believe you were… and you weren't."

He angled them toward a bench beside the stone carved balcony railing. Jane sat when he did, and a quick rush of warmth shot through her chest when he reached out and took her hand. His warm, callused palm slid against her smaller one.

"The Nine Realms travel within Yggdrasil," he explained. "Orbiting Midgard in much the way your planets orbit the sun. Every five thousand years the worlds align perfectly, and we call this the Convergence."

His fingers intertwined with hers, and the look in his eyes brought a quickening in her stomach.

"During this time the borders between worlds become blurred. It's possible you found one of these points. We are lucky that it remained open. Once the worlds pass out of alignment…"

His fingers shifted out of hers, palm tipping sideways to symbolize the breaking of a link. "…the connection is lost."

Jane swallowed at the look in his eye. Inch by inch, they leaned toward one another, the gap finally closed as their lips met. He was all warmth and solid strength and steadiness, the gentle scratching of his beard against her chin sending a flutter of contentment through her. He smelled like the warm sunshine on the desert rocks outside her house in New Mexico. The tender strength in a rough wind, freedom and promise and hope all rolled into one.

When he pulled back, she felt a little breathless.

"I like the way you explain things," she managed lamely. Then she swallowed, the darker, colder fear seeping into her stomach, driving away the warmth. "What will happen to me?"

"I'll find a way to save you, Jane."

"Your father said there was—"

"My father," Thor declared in a stern voice. "Doesn't know everything."

The look in his eyes was full of such dark promise that she felt a plunge of adrenaline. Surely Thor wouldn't go against his own father on this? To save a mortal? Footsteps echoed behind her, and she almost turned around to look, but Thor's hand tightened around her forearm, tugging her suddenly closer. His voice lowered to a pitch no one else would catch but her.

"I swear to you, Jane," he murmured, blue eyes locked onto her own with such an intensity she forgot to breathe. "I will not rest until we have removed this darkness from you. You _will _be all right. If I have to move Valhalla and the Nine Realms to see it done, I will do so." His voice caught, eyes tightening at the corners. "I should have come for you sooner. I could have prevented all this pain for you. I promise you, upon my hammer, that I will not leave you again."

Jane swallowed. Hard, because her throat was threatening to squeeze up and release some awfully embarrassing noise. She nodded, gripping Thor's own forearm with trembling fingers.

"And I'll always wait for you," she whispered back.

* * *

Jane awoke with to a pounding heart and a pressing headache. Pushing damp locks of hair out of her eyes, she detangled herself from the sheets and sat up. Her whole body was shaking.

_It wasn't a nightmare, _she told herself, forcing herself to breathe evenly. _Why am I reacting like this?_

It was the first time she'd dreamed of Thor in a long, long time. Months.

_"I promise… I will not leave you again."_

Swallowing, Jane pushed her sheets aside and slid out of bed. The floor felt just as cold and unwelcoming as it had the night before.

The memory of Loki's words suddenly came flooding back. She jerked forward, feeling suddenly, awfully sick.

_"Thor could summon masses of energy to send me here in wartime, could he not—throughout this whole year of peace—summon a little power to come here himself?"_

To her horror, hot tears burned against her eyelids. She blinked them furiously back, half-stumbled to her closet and yanked out a bathrobe. Shrugging the robe over her flannel pajamas, she hurried out to the kitchen.

Hoping against hope, that her unwelcome guest was still asleep on the roof.

Then, hoping malevolently that he'd gotten no sleep at all.

Or, just an early Christmas present, maybe fallen off the roof. Wouldn't that be nice.

To her unending relief, the kitchen was empty when she arrived. The coffee pot was out, but still sparkling clean and unused from where it'd been set out yesterday. That meant Darcy wasn't up yet. Jane glanced up at the microwave clock. 9:25. She'd overslept, but Saturdays didn't typically see Darcy up for another two hours or more.

Content that she'd be alone for a little while, Jane pulled the little brass kettle out from the cupboard and filled it up with the tap. The steady patter of water against the tinny insides normally soothed her.

This morning it reminded her cruelly of the gentle flow of the waterfront, Asgardian shores lapping against the base of a metal balcony.

_"I'll always wait for you…"_

She slammed the kettle down onto the burner a little harder than she meant to.

The memory of her rash promise still echoed hollowly in her ears. How could she have been so naïve? So trusting? Blind like a fool in love, she'd fallen head over heels for a man she knew next to nothing about. Who was she to think she'd be the only mortal in two thousand years to catch and hold Thor's heart?

Something stabbed deep within her breast, a throb of pain searing through her body with every heartbeat.

How stupid was she, indeed. She, Jane Foster. Aspiring to be anything higher than she was.

She… a _queen._

The piercing whistle of the kettle drew her from her dark reverie. She poured herself a mug of steaming water and dropping a tea bag in to steep. Niggling somewhere in the back of her mind came the wondering if she oughtn't to have just stayed in bed.

Loki's cruel words from the night before wouldn't fade. They were a constant, hissing whine in the background, a cold bite in the stillness of the morning.

_Lady Sif has always had eyes for him. It's about time he saw what was standing right in front of him. Beauty, strength, and several thousand years of life. Near immortality. Someone who knows him better than he knows himself, I daresay."_

Queen material. Who was she compared to that?

_"He'll turn to her now, in your absence."_

She jerked the tea mug to her lips and took a sip. It scalded going down.

Yep. She should have stayed in bed this morning.

The turbulent _fhttttt-fhttttt _of her cell phone buzzing made her jump. Reaching down to her pocket, she pulled it out to look at the screen. A tiny bubble of hope swelled inside her when she saw the number on the screen, and the smiling face. She pressed _accept._

"Richard?"

"Hey, Jane! Sorry I'm calling so early. I know it's a Saturday… Crap. I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"It's fine. I've been up for a while."

"Oh, good. How've things been for you?"

She twisted the string of her tea bag around her finger… and kept twisting until her fingertip turned purple.

"Jane?"

"It's been alright," she answered. "I'm just in the mood to get out of the house, is all."

_Such an understatement._

"Oh. Well, that's great then! Cuz I thought I might call you up and see if you wanted to grab dinner again."

Jane closed her eyes. What had she come to? Letting an exiled criminal drive her out of her owl house?

"You know what, that sounds like a fantastic idea. When?"

"How's tonight work for you?"

"Great. More than great."

Richard chuckled. "Sounds like you're itching to get out of there. Someone set off a stink bomb in your apartment or something? Rotten food in the fridge? Roommate troubles? "

Jane laughed weakly. "Something like that."

"Right. Certainly don't miss those. So, I'll pick you up at seven again, then?"

"No!" Jane blurted out without thinking. Horrible visions flickered before her eyes of Richard and Loki coming face to face.

"O-okay, we don't have to meet at your place. Smells that bad, huh?"

Jane ran a hand over her eyes and let out a shaky laugh. At least he was gracious.

"Sorry. How about I meet you there?"

"You don't even know where 'there' is yet."

"How about something far away? Edge of town, maybe."

Jane couldn't wait to put as many miles between herself and the Silver-tongued Fiend as possible.

"Man, you sure you don't me to come get you right now? Sounds like you're eyes are watering."

She smiled. "Well, you could come get me even earlier. That'd be great."

"All right. Five, then."

"Perfect."

Richard laughed again. "All right. Hang in there, Jane. Get out of that house in the meantime. Get some fresh air. Take a walk. I'll take you to the non-smelliest restaurant in town."

"Thanks, Richard."

"Looking forward to it. Ciao."

Jane hung up the phone, feeling a whole lot lighter than she had two minutes ago. She headed to her room to brush her hair and put on real clothes. A little makeup wouldn't hurt, either.

As she headed into her room, it didn't even occur to her that in the course of that conversation something very, very important had slipped her mind.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Yes, I'm aware that I blatantly added extra lines to THOR: the Dark World, but hey. It's Fanfiction. My story. As Loki would say. **_**I do what I want.**_

**Review, please! I feel lonely. **


	9. Fairytales and Broken Men

**Hey y'all! Sorry it's been so long. I've been fighting tooth and nail with writer's block and finally pinned the freaking thing to the mat. Ha, mostly. At least where the next few chapters are concerned.**

**Lots of Jane/Richard in this chapter, but don't you worry—at the very end I'm setting it up for a delicious Lokane moment to come ;-)**

**Enjoy! And don't forget to review. **

* * *

_"It hurts when we risk our hearts and they end up being broken._

_But what hurts even more is when we still hold on when we already know_

_That we're waiting for nothing…"_

—Anonymous

* * *

Five o'clock couldn't come fast enough. Loki finally slumped downstairs around noon, shadows darkening the skin above his pale cheekbones. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink since she'd left him.

Jane stiffened as he drew nearer to the kitchen, but he drifted past her to the coffee machine, removing the cartridge and refilling it with deft fingers. She'd only taught him that once, but he had coffee making down to an art. She glared at his back, willing him to turn around and meet her gaze. Say something to acknowledge what he'd done last night. _Apologize. _But he kept his back to her, moving about the kitchen and then on to the living room. Jane could practically feel the steam curling outward from her ears.

Well, two could play at that game.

She resolved to spend the rest of the day ignoring him. It turned out harder than anticipated. The apartment was tiny, her only places of escape her tiny bedroom and the bathroom. Darcy finally came lumbering out of her room at half past one, sleep smudging the makeup across her face she'd forgotten to take off last night. Her hair stuck up in a hundred different directions, which was impressive considering the length, and she blinked owlishly at her two roommates before moving to the coffee pot.

"Where's the fire," she drawled, scrubbing the back of her head as she filled the jar. "Look alive, people. It feels like a mausoleum in here."

Jane said nothing, opting instead to shift her position on the couch so that the book she read concealed Darcy from view. Loki remained silent from his post at the other side of the living room. He'd snagged one of her books from the bookcase along the wall, and was buried between the covers of Orson Scott Card as if he wished the pages would absorb him.

Jane sure wouldn't have minded.

Darcy padded across the carpet with her steaming mug of coffee, her head coming into view over the top of Jane's book. Jane felt the couch cushions bounce as she sat. Half a minute passed before Darcy's red-painted finger wedged itself between the pages, tipping the book down to Jane's knees. Her lower lip stuck out.

"Are you ignoring me?"

"No," Jane said.

"Are you mad at me?"

_"No," _Jane said.

"Are you PMS'ing?"

Loki snorted from across the room, and Jane's cheeks flamed. She didn't even know how he'd learned the reference, but she tugged her book out from under Darcy's hand and sniffed.

"I'm fine, Darcy. Don't you have work?"

"It's Saturday."

Jane bit the inside of her cheek. Darcy tipped her head sideways, while the pages of Orson Scott ruffled conspicuously across the room.

"Jane," said Darcy. "Are you okay?"

The concern thick in her friend's voice almost unstopped the river of pain corked in Jane's throat. But she pressed her lips tight and nodded once.

"I'm all right, Darce. Really. Just nervous is all."

If anything would snag away Darcy's attention, this would.

"Nervous? For what?"

"Well… in three hours I'm going on my second date with Richard."

Darcy stared at her for a moment. Then her mouth dropped open and an earsplitting squeal filled the room. An irritated puff of air sounded from the other couch.

"Look at you!" Darcy crowed, while Jane winced. "Well and truly over Mr. Thunder Muscles. I'm so proud of you. This is a big step. Okay, where's he taking you? Somewhere fancy like last time? Somewhere candlelit and romantic?"

"Darcy."

"Ooh, why are you only telling me this _now? _We've got less than three hours to find you the sexiest dress off the racks of Manhattan! I'm thinking something long, with a chic open back, and maybe a naughty—"

"Darcy!" Jane snatched her friend's suggestively moving hands. "It's just something casual. No gowns. And _no _heels for Pete's sake, we're going dancing."

Her eyebrows shot up, a mischievous grin curling her lips. "Dancing, eh?"

"_No, _Darcy. I am not wearing your miniskirt."

Her roommate's tongue darted out at that, but she quickly hopped up off the couch and yanked Jane up with her.

"Dancing. Mm-_mm, _I've got just the thing. I'll be darned if I don't get you into the most eye-snatchin' outfit combo you've got in your closet."

* * *

Three and a half hours later, Jane gripped Richard's hand as he helped her from his car. Her shiny hair-sprayed curls bounced when she rose with as wide a smile as she could get. She could swear she had lipstick on her teeth.

Darcy's "casual" was Jane's worst nightmare. Not that she minded the particular articles of clothing her roommate had picked out, but wearing them all _together. _She felt like a walking manikin from Old Navy or something equally ridiculous. Mind you, she did appreciate the way Richard's eyes bugged out when he saw the painstaking effort Darcy had put into her hair.

"You look great," he'd said. "I never see you do anything to it."

Then he'd smacked himself on the forehead. "Um, I mean—that came out wrong. I meant you always wear it straight. Not nice like this—shoot, I didn't mean in that way either…"

Jane just smiled. "Thanks, Richard."

She could be in a gunny sack and clown shoes for all she cared. She'd never felt more relieved to be out of her own apartment.

"Table for two," Richard said once they'd walked through the doors of _Betty's Dine &amp; Dance. _The hostess shot them a sunny smile and scooped up two menus.

"Right this way, please."

They passed the huge square expanse in the middle of the diner, where couple dozen people twirled and stomped to the beat pouring through the overhead speakers. Multicolored lights skipped across dancers and seated patrons alike. But the seated customers didn't seem to mind. Quite the opposite, in fact: many people had their heads bobbing and swaying to the music as they conversed, feet tapping under the table. Jane could feel the lively energy of the place itching into her own feet. She hoped Richard wouldn't take that as an invitation. In all honesty, she was terrible at dancing. But she'd asked for the furthest joint from her apartment, and Robert had took it literally. _Betty's Dine &amp; Dance _lay on the very edge of downtown Manhattan. With all the miles between herself and Loki, Jane wasn't about to complain.

"Here you go, honeys!"

The plump little hostess waved them over to a corner booth. Jane slid herself across from Richard, grinning when he had to shout over the music,

"This too crazy for you?"

"Actually," she yelled back. "It's just right. Nice pick!"

"Figured it was far enough your roommate's stink fumes wouldn't reach you."

Jane laughed. "How'd you know it was my roommate?"

"Well," he said, with a cough. "She did crash our last date. I wouldn't be surprised if she got all up in your hair again."

Jane's smiled eroded a bit. She hadn't meant to toss a bad light over Darcy. Changing the subject, she stabbed a finger at her menu.

"You ever eaten here before?"

"Yeah, once or twice. Don't remember it being this loud."

"Maybe you're getting old."

Richard threw her a mock-gasp, and lifted his menu. It wasn't hard to notice he had a few years on her. But Jane didn't mind. He had a boyish smile, and she found his unruly brown hair endearing. The only thing she'd change about him were perhaps his eyes… she'd rather they were brown instead of blue.

Blue was… painful.

"Hey."

A warm hand closed over hers where it rested on the table, and Jane looked up with a start. Richard's brow had furrowed, his thumb smoothing over the backs of her knuckles.

"You okay?"

"Sorry? Oh. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Lost you there for a minute. What were you thinking about?"

Jane's breath caught in her throat. She suddenly couldn't hold his eyes. "I…"

Richard's hand tightened over hers. His voice softened. "Oh, I see," he murmured. "Him."

Jane looked up. Something hot burned behind her eyes, and she swallowed it back with all her might. "I'm not…"

The look was there, in his eyes. He knew. She couldn't deny it.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"Hey, it's okay. It takes a while, you know? To get over them."

Jane rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, cursing herself for the wetness slipping over them. "Yeah? It's been two years."

"Been five for me."

She blinked and looked back at him. Forcing a laugh that came out more like a whimper, she said, "Look at us. Only our second date and we're already talking about exes."

Richard smiled. It didn't touch is eyes. "Mine's not exactly an ex. I still love her."

Jane bit her lip. "…oh."

Richard lowered his eyes, a suspicious bright sheen coloring his baby blues. "Heh. Sorry. Still gets to me, every time I talk about her. My wife. She died three years after we got married."

Jane drew in a sharp breath. "Richard," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"It's all right." He pinched the corner of his eye with one hard thumb, forcing the tears back. Then he gave her a tight grin. "It's been long enough. I can't keep looking back. Cancer sucks, but it's got no right to take anything else from me."

Richard shook his head with a watery laugh. "Look at me. I'm sorry. I've been having a great time with you the past few days. I actually really like you, and here I am talking about my dead wife. Guess it's all as well. I never get a third date anyway."

Jane stared at him as he tried to pull himself together. Thor was strong, she suddenly thought. Thor was tall and golden and blonde and _strong. _Had he any weaknesses at all, he wouldn't have shown them to her like this. Not with great unmanly tears and confessions of inadequacy.

Maybe that was why. Maybe that was the reason she'd felt like the whole time, up there on Asgard and even back in Puente Antiguo, she'd been caught up in a dream. Her head stuck in the clouds, hazy and warm like a fairytale_. _Maybe that was why she'd never felt it was real.

But Richard. He was raw and broken and very, very human.

Overcome with a sudden tenderness for the very real man in front of her, Jane reached out and closed her other hand over his.

"You'll get a third date," she promised, squeezing his fingers lightly.

"Y'all ready to order?"

They both jumped. Jane looked up to see the waitress standing there, pad and pen in hand with a bright wide smile. Richard drew himself up and grinned back at her. Jane felt no small admiration for the apparent sincerity of the expression.

"I'll have the sirloin steak," he said.

"Um…" Jane started. She hadn't even gotten the chance to think of her order. Floundering, she picked the first thing she saw on the menu. "I'll have the House soup."

"Make that two of those," said a voice.

Jane's stomach plummeted straight through the floor.

_No, _she thought. _There's no way. No, no, no…_

A blinding white smile, ink black hair and sharp blue eyes. He sank into the booth across from her, forcing Richard to scoot across the bench with a startled blink.

"My, this place is cacophonous," Loki said, smiling round at the both of them. "I take it you are paying for this little repast. I'm afraid under the present circumstances I'm…what is it you Midgardians say…_broke."_

* * *

**Mweheheh. **

**Tell me what you think!**


	10. Safe

**Hey. S'been a while. Sorry about that! Winter college, man. Not fun :P But I have torn myself away from mounds of homework and my sweet escape Doctor Who to bring you this next chapter! Voila. **

**Originally, I was going to wait to post this for another week or so, so I could add more to it, but I decided that I've kept you waiting long enough. Sorry it's short, but I figured better a little sooner rather than a lot later, right?**

**Review your thoughts. **

**Love you **_**all**_**. **

* * *

"_The best way to not get your heart broken is pretending you don't have one." _

― _Charlie Sheen _

* * *

Loki hadn't intended to follow Jane. Truly. But when circumstances dictated that he had no other choice, he found he couldn't resist on the opportunity to indulge in a little mischief.

He'd first felt the tug soon after Richard had taken Jane away in his shiny red convertible. Initially just an imperceptible pull toward some unknown thing, a strange and almost incontrollable need to move in one direction. In _Jane's _direction. Startled and not at all keen on stumbling after his virtual jailer, of course he'd tried to fight it. But it only grew stronger. His feet began to burn, as if the very skin on the soles of his feet had gone aflame. Every muscles in his legs seized. And finally, though he fought it with every fibre of his being, his own body turned against him. Only once his feet had carried him out the door, down the street and halfway down the next block, did he finally surrender.

He let the unseen force pull him through the busy intersections of Manhattan. He kept his head down, hands in his pockets as if he were no more than another pedestrian amongst the millions downturned faces. To his chagrin, he found himself hoping that no one bothered to look his way. Should he be recognized, he had no way of defending himself. The monster who'd almost destroyed this pathetic excuse for a booming metropolis, now picking his way sheepishly through a thousand mortals. Surely this was the lowest point of his existence. He swore to himself that once he found Jane he'd use any means necessary to ensure she never wander like this again.

Loki had no idea how far he walked, but soon the sky had grown dark and the brilliant lights of New York City blitzed to life all around him. The world became a hazy, smoggy hodge-podge of neon greens, reds, and blues. He guessed he'd walked at least half a dozen miles, or more, by the time he felt the pressure let up on his body. His limbs gradually began to ease, the inexplicable tension in every muscles draining away. Finally, his feet merely swung forward of their own accord. He took this advantage of this newfound _glorious _liberty and stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. Someone bumped into him from behind and cursed roundly. The rest of his fellow pedestrians grumbled as they flowed around him; he was a rock parting the raging torrents of an unending stream.

Loki looked up, turning slowly in a circle to take in where he was. The side of Manhattan felt different than the little complex street Jane and Darcy lived on. Here, instead of motley traffic and inconspicuous gray buildings, every street corner exploded in a riot of color, noise, and light. Such a cacophonous mix made him curl his lip in distaste. Had he any sort of choice in the matter, he wouldn't be staying long.

He needed to find Jane.

Figuring she had to be somewhere nearby, judging the wane of the binding spell Thor had placed upon him, Loki pivoted on his heels. He scanned each glowing sign, and with every name, his distaste for this rotten city curdled. _Brady's Bar &amp; Grill, Ye Olde Pub, Blacktop Diner, McGray's Five-Star, Top 'n Spot…_

Truly, the titles these quibbling humans came up with. If any hole-in-the-wall tavern in Asgard bore a name like _Top 'n Spot, _the offending sign would be peppered through with arrows and spears within a fortnight. Utterly ridiculous.

His roving eyes finally alighted on a particularly abhorrent blinking sign, red and blue bulbs flashing all around the fat glowing letters. _Betty's Dine &amp; Dance. _Ah. Jane had mentioned to the lady Lewis that this so-called Richard would be taking her to a dance. Loki should have known better by now, learned not to apply any of his proper Asgardian connotations to these Midgardian words. But of course, what civilized mind would not immediately envision a proper ballroom, filled with music and cultured dancing and the like? Loki had been positive his opinion of humanity could not plummet any further. Yet, as soon as he set foot inside this repulsive little dump, he realized something that had never happened to him before.

He was wrong.

The shabby place was bustling with people. Light, sound, and swarming bodies all jumbled together so that for a brief moment he had no idea what he was even looking at. Humans were pressed closely together, some sandwiched like over packed fish in a docking crate, others squished up against each other's fronts like hormone-ridden teenagers. Hands curled up around shirt collars; feet stomped and crossed; bodies twirled and swayed. It looked like some uncanny ritual performed by the wild tribes of Alfheim. Only the "naked" savages of Alfheim's forests were still at least properly covered. One tipsy Midgardian woman stumbled past Loki, shot him a lewd smile, and proceeded to trip soundly. Her flabby bosom, squeezed to bursting within a skintight excuse for a tunic, flopped upward enough to give him something he _never _wanted to see. In all the Nine Realms, ever again.

What in Odin's name had possessed Jane's suitor to bring her to a place like this?

To his horror, he realized that the ungodly screeching noise blaring from the speakers overhead was intended to be _music. _

A remembered conversation between himself and his brother echoed to the forefront of his mind.

_"You think yourself above them?"_

Thor, with that stupid sanctimonious glimmer in his eye. If only Asgard's glorious prince could see his precious Midgardians now. Let him sing their praises then. The apes.

Finally, he spotted the couple in question, seated at a dimly lit booth in the corner of the pulsing dance floor. Jane and Richard were leaning toward each other, hands closed over one another's. The waitress was approaching them from behind, notepad and pen ready, but neither of them noticed. They seemed too absorbed in their conversation. In fact, Richard's eyes had a suspicious gleam to them. Well, perhaps he'd come just in time. If Jane was going to waltz off to the other end of town and force him to come trailing after her like a dog on a leash, he'd have to pull a couple of tricks from his sleeve. They didn't call him the God of Mischief for nothing. He could think of a few things to make this evening especially uncomfortable for the both of them.

With a slow smile, he started toward the unsuspecting pair.

* * *

The minute she heard Loki's voice, Jane choked on the air in her lungs. Richard blinked in surprise when the lanky Asgardian forced him to scoot across the bench, sliding in beside him. Jane's hand slipped out from under Richard's, instead rising to cover her face.

This could not. Be. Happening.

"Well then, friend," Loki said with a sunny smile, looking over at Richard. "I do believe our little Jane's been quite rude. We've not yet been acquainted."

Through her fingers, Jane could see Richard's mouth open and close— his eyes flickering over toward her. He looked rather like a beached fish. Had she not been so horribly embarrassed for both her date and herself—oh, she was going to _kill _Loki when they got back to the apartment—she might have found the whole thing funny.

"I—ah, I'm Richard."

"Nice to meet you, Richard. I am called—"

"Luke!" Jane blurted out, dropping her hands. Loki quirked an eyebrow at him, and she shot him the most withering glare she could possibly manage. "His name is Luke."

Enough people had heard of "Loki of Asgard" to kick up a riot down here in lower Manhattan. She didn't want any more trouble than she'd already found herself in. Glacial blue eyes measuring her expression, Loki didn't contradict her.

"Luke," Richard repeated, looking to Jane.

"He's my…" Jane floundered. _If I say roommate, there'll be hell to pay. _"Roommate's boyfriend."

Loki's mouth twitched, but he said nothing.

"Ah," Richard said with a nod, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for a potential girlfriend's roommate's boyfriend to crash their dinner date. He offered Loki a strained smile. Jane's heart jerked, just looking across the table at the two of them. The sweetest man she knew, graciously reaching for the hand of the nastiest.

Loki shook Richard's preferred hand with a faint smirk. Jane wanted to hit him. Instead, she reached for her water glass with rigid fingers.

"How is Darcy these days?" Richard asked.

Loki lifted a shoulder. "Loud as ever. She was disappointed she did not get to greet you when you came to pick Jane up."

Richard's sweet, innocent smile remained. "Well, perhaps the four of us can go out for a double date sometime. I haven't seen that kid in a while."

Jane coughed up the water she'd just swallowed. Richard turned to her when she choked, wiping her eyes. Loki's smirk didn't waver.

"You all right, Jane?"

"Fine," Jane spluttered, balling up a pair of napkins in one angry fist.

"That sounds like a marvelous idea," Loki said with a perfectly straight face. "Darcy's been so very concerned about dear Jane here. A true lifesaver, you've been. Any excuse to get her out of our tiny abode and into civilization again. Before tonight nothing on God's earth would have possessed her to get up out of bed. Why, I believe this might be the first time she's bathed properly in a fortnight. You should feel pride, Richard. You've moved our lovely lady enough to embrace hygiene once again."

Richard's ears turned red at that. "Well, uh, I certainly wasn't aware…"

Jane had never before experienced murderous desire in her life. But now she wanted nothing more than to crack Richard's plate down across that aristocratic nose. Something of this desire must have showed on her face, for her date leaned across the table with a concerned expression.

"Are you sure you're all right? You look like you're—"

"You know what!" Jane shot up off the bench with a too-wide grin. "I feel like dancing. Do you want to dance, Richard?"

She snapped out a hand without a glance toward their tablemate. Richard awkwardly climbed to his feet and wedged himself around Loki, taking her hand with a self-conscious clearing of his throat. Jane shot a wickedly sweet smile in Loki's direction.

"Nice to see you tonight, _Luke. _I'm pretty sure you can find your way out of this place. Good night!"

Without waiting for a response, Jane whirled in her heels and tugged Richard out onto the dance floor. Only once they'd sufficiently hidden themselves within a throng of moving people did she relax.

Richard's smile was a little embarrassed as he settled his hands around her waist.

"Wasn't that…" He coughed, the tops of his cheeks turning just a little pink. "You know, just a little bit…"

"Rude?" Jane shrugged. "Not at all. You'd be surprised."

"Ah. So you have that kind of relationship."

"Sort of, yeah. We're not the best of pals. The feeling's mutual."

"Why'd he show up here then?"

_To be an arse. _

"Darcy probably told him to check on me?" Jane bit her tongue, face reddening at how poorly that came out. Richard raised an eyebrow, but didn't seem offended.

"I mean, she worries a lot. You know, after the last two years. I'm sure you remember how she crashed our date herself last time."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "I remember."

"She's just a little overprotective, is all."

"I see." Richard glanced over the top of Jane's head. "Well, the feeling seems to extend to her beau. He's giving me the look."

Jane laughed. "The look?"

"Yeah. The look where he wants to pick up the nearest blunt object and stick it through my trachea."

"I've got an idea," Jane said, looping her arms around his neck. "How about we don't talk about my roommate's boyfriend anymore?"

If possible, Richard's ears went even pinker. Jane decided she loved that shade. Thor's ears never reddened; he was too brazen from battle, too used to the ladies of the court fawning over him. But Richard's soft denim eyes were innocent. They'd seen pain, yes, the death of his wife, and no doubt much more. But Jane felt safe with him. Not in the same sense she had with Thor—sure, she'd felt safe with the looming thunder god, as a mouse feels safe in the shadow of a mighty boulder, or the cleft of a rock. But Richard didn't cast a shadow. And though Jane had no doubt he'd do his best to protect her, should any need arise, this man was different than Thor. Falling in love with Richard would be easy. Safe. A little simple, perhaps. Nowhere near as thrilling a fall as a prince from the Bifrost, but she didn't need to worry about losing herself in the process. She didn't have to fear that great inevitable pain in the distance, barreling closer to tear her spirit to shreds.

She could keep herself safely away from the unknown.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile and focused in one the man in front of her.

Time to put the Other One behind her, once and for all.

* * *

**Sorry again about the wait. Review?**


	11. A Thousand Faces

**Wow. I am touched that you guys stuck with this story enough to pester me for seven months when I considered dropping it. That's commitment. You all rock, each and every one of you. I should let you know that I've decided to continue this story, mostly just because of the amazing feedback I've had-it was getting rough there for a while, but I'm going to try to stick with it and keep posting, however irregularly. **

**Love you all. You're amazing.**

* * *

"_So you thought you keep this up_

_All the work that you do_

_So we think that you're good_

_And you can't believe it's not enough_

_All the walls you built up_

_Are just glass on the outside…" _

_. _

_Tenth Avenue North,_

_Healing Begins._

* * *

She danced with him until she ran out of conversation topics. One could only bring up sea bass so many times. She found out a lot about his work: Richard was a scientist, like her, but had chosen a far different field to apply his physics degree. He was a professor at the same university Darcy went to; go figure, with Darcy's new change of major she'd recently enrolled in one of his classes as a requirement.

"Most people think teaching is boring, but I love it. I get all the mix: the sassy college students, the ambitious ones, the ones who just don't care, and a couple quiet bright ones like you. It's fun to see how big of an impact I can make on their careers—in the good way, I mean. Not like some of my colleagues. They'll teach the latest trend like it's fact and then spit on it halfway through the semester. No commitment to real learning."

"That sounds cool."

In reality, Jane was getting a little bored. The easy sway of the music had made her feet go numb, this monotonous pacing back and forth to the beat. Didn't Richard know any other steps? Walking back and forth in each other's arms, running out of things to say, made her heart beat at an uncomfortable pace.

It wasn't like this with Thor, she found herself thinking.

She forced her thoughts away, just in time to realize he'd stopped talking. Those blue eyes held her face with a sheepish smile.

"I'm putting you to sleep," he said.

"Huh? Oh no, not at all! I like hearing about physics."

"I was talking about my rival's teaching methods, actually."

He laughed when she blushed. Then he twirled her gently around and let go of her hand. When Jane turned around again, she hit a barrier. Her hands automatically closed around the new ones that steadied her. Too late, she looked up.

Loki smirked from his place between Jane and Richard.

"Mind if I cut in?"

Her date, ever the gentlemen, gave the intruder a gracious half-smile.

"I don't generally let tall British guys steal my dates."

Loki returned with an easy laugh, as if there were no tension in the air at all. "Mister Richard, I think you'll find that your telephone device—which you left on the table—won't stop ringing."

Richard's gaze flickered to Jane. She widened her eyes at him in a universal _SOS. _He hesitated.

"They've probably called four times," Loki added.

"Hang tight a minute," Richard said, brushing past Jane and dropping a quick kiss to her cheek. "Sorry. It's probably work calling if it's that urgent. I'll be right back. Have fun with Luke."

"I don't think that's—"

Loki spun her around at the same time that the music changed. A deeper, faster beat pulsed through the room. A few of the other dancers cheered and picked up the pace.

"What are you doing?" Jane demanded.

"Dancing. You should try it sometime."

"I was. With _Richard."_

"You call that dancing?" Those grinning silver eyes turned a hundred different colors under the dancing lights. He suddenly leaned forward, lips skimming the top of her ear as the sound began to build around them. "Allow me, my lady, to show you what _real_ dancing is."

Before Jane could protest, he pulled her into the rhythm.

She'd never been good at dancing. But with Loki leading, all the ancient formal grace of an Asgardian prince on his side, a foreign thrill travelled from him into her bones. A newfound yearning for elegance; that craving of movement, of synchrony.

And so, Jane moved.

She let him guide her into motions she'd never known before, following the cadence of his feet, the gentle pressure of his hands. Who'd have guessed the destroyer of New York could be gentle? The man who lashed at her with words when she unveiled the slightest weakness? The self-disowned brother. The wounded animal who snarled at all who came close.

She waited for him to taunt her. She tripped once, falling with her hands shot out straight to his chest, then froze like a man waiting for the guillotine. But he only helped her back to her feet, continuing on without a word. For the second time in one night, Jane had an uncomfortable surprise.

What if Loki had just come out here to dance?

She could handle mocking Loki. She could hadn't sullen Loki. Heck, she could handle mean and nasty, chokehold-happy Loki.

Keeping her eyes on his face, she realized to her horror that a faint smile graced his lips. And it wasn't a sneer or a smirk. He appeared to be actually enjoying himself.

She didn't know what to do with this kind of Loki.

"What are you staring at?"

"You," she blurted out.

His eyebrow lifted, and she felt her face catch flame.

"What is this?"

"What's what?"

"This! Twirling me around like I'm _not _someone you hate, this lack of outright nastiness. All this gentlemanly… stuff."

"I believe I said it was called dancing."

He chuckled, and spun her around before she could retort.

"Not so gentlemanly crashing my date," Jane snapped when she was back in his arms.

"Unfortunately for us both, I had no choice in the matter."

"What do you mean?"

"You do realize you're more than twelve miles away from your apartment. Seems you tried to put all of Manhattan between us."

"You walked twelve miles to get here?"

"Was dragged, twelve miles, would be a more accurate description."

Jane tightened her hands on his in frustration. He merely smiled down at her and looped them around his neck. She hung a little extra weight on them, just to annoy. He didn't even notice.

"What did you do to Richard's phone?"

"Nothing."

"I don't believe you."

"I told you my magic is bound. Besides, hexes and charms don't work on such rudimentary contraptions."

"Rudimentary? Darcy had to teach you how to find speed dial."

"The point is I didn't trifle with the phone," Loki snapped over the music.

"Hey," interjected a woman next to them. "You guys are ruining it for the rest of us. This is supposed to be a romantic song."

"Yeah. Quit arguing," agreed her partner. "Make up and make out already."

Loki didn't miss a beat. With a winning smile and a mumbled apology, he twirled a mortified Jane away from the pair. Once a healthy distance away, he paused with a indefinable expression on his face. As if waiting for something.

She glanced back at the couple. The man and woman had crescendoed to some strange exaggerated waltz only they knew. He was just pulling her out of a dip when suddenly, with an ugly shriek, the woman slipped and carried him down with her. Everyone around them jumped in surprise, turning around to see the spectacle. Jane got a glimpse of flailing limbs and upended spiked high-heels through the gathering circle of feet.

The woman's huge curly hair had pinned itself to her husband's tuxedo.

The crowd converged around them, and Jane whirled on her own dance partner.

"What was that?" she cried.

Loki's mouth twitched. "I may have brushed his shoulder on the way out."

"I thought you said Thor took your magic!"

His eyes gleamed. "He couldn't well have erased all of my tricks, now could he?"

"How did you—"

Two long fingers found her lips. "Hush. Even Midgardian magicians never reveal their secrets."

She pushed him away. Fighting valiantly to forget the image of Rude Mr. and Mrs. Stiletto tumbling like a pair of dominoes.

"That wasn't funny."

"Of course," Loki said, straight-faced. "Something else must have put that brightness in your eyes."

She hid her smile behind her hair. "I'm not laughing."

Loki caught the curls with a free hand, tucking them back behind her ear. Smooth fingers lingered on the curve of her jaw.

"It's nice," he said softly.

Jane looked up at him. He was smiling the same, startlingly genuine smile.

"You're very two-faced," she suddenly said. "Do you realize that?"

The smile faded into his more trademark smirk.

"Hopefully I'm more than that," he remarked. "Only two faces would put my reputation to shame. I've built up quite a mythology."

"Why?"

He frowned. "Why what?"

"Why do you do that? Surround yourself with faces. The trickster. The brother. The monster. The hero, even. What are you?"

"I have never been a hero."

"You saved me from a bomb. On Svartalheim, remember?"

Beneath her hands, the tendons of his shoulders began to stiffen.

"Must've slipped my mind," he said easily.

"Hm. And getting staked through the ribs to save your brother?"

"That was an illusion."

"Was it? You still saved his life."

"This sudden curiosity," Loki breathed, leaning forward until their faces were just a breath apart. "Always the little scientist. Do you have a theory, Jane Foster?"

She held her ground, refusing to shrink back. It was the first time he'd used her name, her real one, without mockery or guise.

"Have you, little mortal star chaser, discovered the great mystery behind Laufeyson's many faces?"

Silver eyes ticked between hers, unwavering. Their feet slowed, forgoing the beat of the music, and Jane's heart quickened. He seemed to be truly waiting for an answer.

"Thor had one face," she said. "He's Asgard's golden boy. I thought I loved him for it, but… with that single shining face, he won't be mine. But you… From what I've heard, you started donning faces a long time ago. You're not Asgard's. But you're not anything else. Not completely. It's like looking into a hundred mirrors all reflecting different directions. A thousand faces, and none of them yours."

She waited for him to smirk, to taunt her as he drew nearer, but his eyes held hers with an unexpected intensity.

"And?"

"I think you do it so nobody will see your real one," she blurted out.

A near imperceptible change touched his brow. The motion of their feet ceased completely, and they went still in the middle of the dance floor. Jane didn't look away from his incisive gaze. He stared into her, eyes like razors, searching for something behind her hazel ones. She had the sudden, frightening thrill of standing on the edge of a precipice.

"Interesting," he murmured, voice almost snatched away in the building music. Jane couldn't tell if he was responding, or remarking on something he didn't intend for her to hear. He drew back, just slightly. Jane was seized with an irrepressible urge to follow him.

"Loki," she whispered, without thinking. His eyes flickered back to her. Something real and unguarded flickered there, behind the cool ivory mask. Something almost like a lost little boy—seen for the first time.

Before she could open her mouth again, his gaze snapped up to fix somewhere over her head. The tension in his shoulders slipped away, retreating to somewhere deeper and hidden.

"Your shining knight returns for you," he said, in a clearer voice.

At the same moment, Jane heard Richard calling out an apology behind her, approaching through the crowd.

"Until next dance, my lady," said Loki, unlacing her hands and pressing a kiss to the back of one of them. She blinked at his smile. It looked so empty. So very much like a mask.

How had she never noticed before?

Loki disappeared into the crowd before Richard reached them. Jane barely heard her date as he rattled off an explanation of his dilemma at work, apologizing again for getting called away. It wasn't until she found herself in the passenger seat of his Corolla, listening to him worry aloud about this new school board quandary, that she realized she hadn't said a word.


End file.
